Second 'B' for Bastard
by NotARedhead
Summary: Third story in the Tony & Jess series. Tony heads undercover and runs into more trouble than he'd anticipated. Who will pull him out? Crossover with The Unit. Standard disclaimer. All hail DPB and David Mamet. NOW COMPLETE. Chap 15 & Epilogue added.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is the third story in what has become the "Tony & Jess" trilogy. Jess is an original character, a life-long friend of Tony's. There's enough information here to get some background on Jess if you haven't read the other stories. However, if you want more, feel free to read or skim "From California to Peoria in Under Four Hours" and "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished." This particular story takes place after Hiatus and Shalom, but before Escaped, although there's a bit of playing with the timeline. Enjoy!_

* * *

**SECOND 'B' FOR BASTARD**

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Hey Jess, it's Tony," the answering machine message said. "Just wanted to let you know that I'll be working some strange hours for a while … didn't want you to worry if you couldn't reach me. I'll give you a call when things even out again. I'm sure one of us owes the other one dinner. Hey – do me a favor and call Uncle Jack and let him know too. I can't find his number anywhere and I'm swamped. Thanks … love ya."

Jess listened to the message two more times. It had been left nearly two weeks ago.

* * *

Jess Kennedy had been working in Washington DC for less than two years – this time anyway; it was her fourth job in the capitol – but she'd known Tony DiNozzo since she was eight and he was nine. They'd lived next door to each other growing up, had gone to school and college together, and had kept in touch ever since. While Tony had been bouncing around between police forces, Jess had been moving from government project to government project. She was an expert in strategic operations, her job taking her all over the world. Jess and Tony had been best friends from the day they met, and were still today. Their relationship was equal parts loving and confrontational. At the heart, they were fiercely loyal to each other and would do pretty much anything for each other.

Jess thought about Tony and their past adventures as she rode the elevator up to his office at NCIS. "This is another fine mess you've gotten me into, Dino," she said to herself as she prepared to enter what she suspected would be a somewhat unwelcoming environment. Things at NCIS had been a little strained since Gibbs 'retired' after the Cape Fear incident, and even more so after he'd left the second time. She didn't know if her showing up with the information she had would be seen as her helping a friend or her sticking her nose into something that she shouldn't be sticking her nose into. She hoped for the former, but suspected it would be the latter.

Ziva and McGee were working on case reports when the elevator opened. Ziva looked at Jess suspiciously. Ziva and Jess had developed a friendly, but distant, relationship. That is, they could stand being in the same room, but if given the chance would pass on the opportunity. McGee liked Jess. She seemed to tone Tony down a little, and she had no problem calling him on things he did or said that were childish or inappropriate. Although McGee had to admit there'd been less of that since Gibbs left. McGee kind of missed the childish and inappropriate things.

Ducky and Abby, just for the record, both liked Jess. Ducky and Jess shared a love of opera and she had accompanied him to the Kennedy Center a couple of times when his mother was too ill to attend a performance. As far as Abby was concerned, Jess was someone who looked out for Tony, so that made her okay in Abby's book.

And Gibbs? Jess and Gibbs had been initially attracted to each other and had dated – well, one date – but that's as far as it had gone. They'd had a good time, and parted as friends, give or take a dented car door.

"Jess, hi," McGee said with a smile as she came around the corner into the bullpen.

"Tony's not here," Ziva said in tone that wasn't unfriendly, but was in that neighborhood. "He's at a conference in Rome."

"I know he's not here," Jess said, carefully. "I actually came to talk to both of you." McGee and Ziva looked at each other and then back at Jess. "Tony's not in Rome."

"Of course he is," McGee said with a smile. "I dropped him at the airport myself. And he called when he got there. That was …" McGee looked at the calendar on his desk. "That was eleven days ago. He should be back day after tomorrow."

"If he's not in Rome, where do you think he is?" Ziva asked, her curiosity piqued, but her suspicions still high.

"Yes, Specialist Kennedy," Director Shepard asked, quietly. No one had noticed her approach the group. "If he's not in Rome, where do you think he is?"

"I don't have a location," Jess said. "That's why I need your help. I know he's in trouble, but without you, I have no hope of finding him." Ziva and McGee traded a glance.

"How can you be so sure?" Jenn asked.

Jess looked around at the skeptical faces. "He left me a message," she said. Director Shepard started to speak, but Jess cut her off. "Nothing compromising," Jess said quickly. She pulled a small cassette player out of her bag and played the message back.

"And from this, you know that Tony's in trouble?" Ziva said. "He sounds fine. And it was left the same day he left for the seminar. Even Tony couldn't get into trouble that quickly!"

"You don't understand," Jess said, feeling the intense scrutiny she was getting from the Director. "Tony and I have this … code …"

"Why does this not surprise me?" Ziva said, sighing and plopping down in her chair.

"Ziva, please," Jenn said. Then, to Jess, "Go on …"

"When he would leave on undercover assignments, he'd always leave me a message. Never with any details – just letting me know. That way, if something went wrong, he could be sure that there was someone who could run up a red flag."

Jenn raised an eyebrow.

"He'd gotten trapped once," Jess said, "in Pittsburgh. An 'unofficial' assignment that was way off the grid. He got out of it on his own, but just barely. After that, he always left a message so that someone would know to look for him if he didn't contact anyone after a certain amount of time."

"So, 'Uncle Jack' is who?" Director Shepard asked.

"'Uncle' means that he's 'undercover without back-up'." The Director raised an eyebrow again.

"'Aunt' is regular undercover; 'uncle' is no back-up," Jess explained.

"Go on," Jenn said.

"'Jack' means that he should be off comm for ten days – J … tenth letter," Jess continued. "If I didn't hear from him on the tenth day after he left the message that meant that I needed to start asking questions. Today is day eleven."

There was silence as everyone looked at Director Shepard. Jess was just about to speak again when Jenn cut her off.

"I appreciate your concern, Miss Kennedy, and I applaud your loyalty," Director Shepard said, in a friendly, but no-nonsense tone. "But this is a simple misunderstanding. Agent DiNozzo is in Italy and he's just fine. I spoke with him this morning. In fact, now that you mention it, he did say to tell you that he was sorry he'd been out of touch. He specifically said to tell you not to worry." Then she smiled at Jess – it was one of those smiles that looked good on the surface, but had nothing behind it.

"You're not a very good liar, Director," Jess said, not backing down.

Jenn's demeanor changed instantly. "Agent DiNozzo is fine, Specialist Kennedy. I suggest you go back to the Pentagon and do your job. We are fully capable of doing ours." With that, she turned and headed back to MTAC.

* * *

Nearly 300 miles away, Tony was sitting in a pick-up truck on a wooded road in northern Pennsylvania. Outside the truck were two men who, at present, were trying to determine his fate. Inside the truck was a third man, who was aiming a gun at him and daring him to try and escape. Tony's hands had been tied to the grab-handle above the window (thankfully, a position he was used to being in after so many car trips with Gibbs and Ziva behind the wheel), and his mouth was taped shut (with duct tape, of course … it was going to hurt like hell when they pulled it off). As he sat and waited, he mentally head-smacked himself for being stupid enough to get caught. Then he ran over the mission in his head.

He'd been canvassing a wooded area just inside Allegheny National Forest, trying to ferret out a ring of Marines and Navy personnel who were dealing in home-made meth. A brigadier general's son – a promising cadet and an excellent marksman – had been found dead from an overdose three weeks earlier. He'd spent the afternoon on a sniper shooting spree that had killed four innocent civilians and paralyzed a fifth, and then he had OD'd, killing himself. The general wanted the meth lab found and destroyed and any military personnel involved punished, preferably shot without court-martial. And he wanted it done NOW.

The case had first come to light a couple of days after Ziva came back and Gibbs left for the second time. Because of the nature of the crime and the levels of the people involved, it was agreed by all agencies that a team of three would be sent in – one each from Naval Intelligence, Marine MP and NCIS. Tony's cover was as a dishonorably discharged petty officer who still had good contacts within the military establishment. It was an easy gig and a decent plan. Tony had played the roll of 'dishonorably discharged drug dealer' before, so his paperwork and cover story didn't need much tweaking. Plus, the mission got him out of the office, which was a good thing since there are only so many 'you're not Gibbs' stares and comments one guy can take in a week.

The only problem with the plan was that they'd never found the meth lab. The other guys had been returned to their units. But for Tony, the mission had become less about saving a brigadier general's reputation than it was about finding out why the intel they'd been given wasn't leading them anywhere. Tony had insisted on staying on the assignment even after it became clear that it was far more difficult than originally thought. He'd had to argue with the Director to get permission to continue.

"Look," he'd said. "There's a lab out there – we know that. These guys are good. They probably have hooks into the system all the way up. That's how they know that we're looking for them. Let me do this under the radar. Go on the record saying that you've closed the investigation. Let that info run all the way to the top. And then send me back out. That's the only way to figure out what's going on."

"It'll be too dangerous," the Director had said. "I won't be able to give you any cover or back-up."

"I've got my cover," Tony reminded her. "And if it goes the way it should, I won't need any back-up."

"And if it doesn't?" the Director said, eyebrow raised.

"Then it won't matter," said Tony.

The two of them stared each other down for 15 seconds as Director Shepard ran scenarios through her head. Tony was just about to try another tactic when she spoke.

"Okay," the Director said. "Ten days. No more. If you haven't located what we need by then, you come back in. Period. Your team will be told that you're at a training seminar in Rome. If anything goes bad, you're on your own. Understood?" She watched his expression.

"Understood," Tony said, a slight grin pulling at his mouth.

"I'm serious, Tony," Jenn said, standing to emphasize the point. "This mission has been officially called off, which means there's no support, budgetary or otherwise."

Tony grinned. "See you in ten days."

He'd gone home, left a message for Jess, and then called McGee for a ride to the airport. Not only did Tony have McGee drop him off at the International Terminal at BWI, he'd shipped a suitcase of clothes and toiletries to the NCIS team in Spain. Two days after Tony was supposed to be in Italy, the Rota team would call NCIS in DC to tell them that Agent DiNozzo's luggage had been sent to 'Rota' instead of 'Rome' and they were shipping it to Italy. McGee or Ziva would leave a message for Tony at his hotel in Rome, and the cover would be solid. McGee and Ziva would be certain Tony was in Italy – plus they'd be able to laugh about him not having his luggage for the first few days. The guys in Spain would think Tony was an idiot for shipping his stuff to the wrong place, but it's not as though he'd ever be assigned to the Rota team.

The plane Tony got on that day had taken him to Bradford, Pennsylvania, not Rome (which, Tony noted, made for a much shorter and more enjoyable flight, considering the agency's penchant for not allowing anyone to fly first class). Tony had spent the next several days running down all of the leads that they'd collected on the task force. Most of them were nothing, but the ones that were actual intel all pointed to the same place. Allegheny National Forest. He'd bought some gear – he suddenly wondered if it was tax-deductible as an un-reimbursed business expense – camped out for a week, and explored every inch of the target area. Each lead he'd been able to discredit got him closer to the truth, and just yesterday he'd managed to find a small Quonset hut-style building that was almost at the center of the Forest. It was hidden by the trees and nearly inaccessible unless you had some heavy-duty wheels or were willing to do some major trekking. He'd marked the route and returned today, hoping to get a look inside before he headed back to DC.

Unfortunately, when he got back to the hut, he ran into three men – the three men who were now deciding his fate. He'd feigned confusion, telling them that he'd been hiking in the woods and had gotten off the path. But they'd run his ID, which marked him as a military guy who had been dishonorably discharged and had a penchant for dirty ops. They'd decided that Tony was working for a competitor and no amount of his formidable charm or undercover acting talents could convince them otherwise.

And that was how, eleven days after he started, Tony found himself captured, bound and gagged, cursing his luck and hoping someone would come looking. The worst part was that he never got to see inside the hut. He'd be really pissed if it wasn't a meth lab.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

At NCIS, Jess turned to McGee and Ziva. "You don't believe me, do you?" she said.

"Believe you about what?" Abby asked as she clopped into the room in her huge black boots and slightly toned-down attire. She'd been a little more subdued since Gibbs left.

"Jess thinks Tony's in trouble," McGee said.

"She got a message that's in some kind of code," Ziva continued, in a tone that clearly said 'I can't believe I'm going along with this'. "Apparently Tony was supposed to be gone for ten days, but it's been eleven, and she's worried."

"Tony's in Italy," Abby said, with a frown. "He's due back day after tomorrow."

"Apparently," Ziva said, with a gesture towards Jess, "he's not."

"I can check," Abby said, with a mischievous grin.

Everyone's eyebrows went up. "How?" McGee said.

"I put a chip on him," Abby said with a smile. She was nearly giggling. "I always wanted to tag him to keep an eye on him, but he would never let me. So I gave him a little phrase book to take with him – 'How to Pick Up Girls in Six Languages' or something like that – and I hid a chip in it. I watched him pack it – in his carry-on. So … wherever the book is, Tony's bag is. And wherever the bag is, Tony is!"

"Unless his luggage got lost again," McGee said, with a small grin. Ziva laughed.

"It was his _carry-on_, Timmy," Abby said as she sat at Tony's computer. "He'd have kept that with him."

Abby put the tracking program up on the plasma and typed in the chip number and the access code. The chip was, indeed, in Rome, at the hotel where Tony was supposed to be staying. "See?" she said, triumphantly. "He's safe and sound in Rome."

"His luggage may be safe and sound in Rome," Jess said, in an exasperated tone, "but Tony's not. Why won't you believe me?"

"Because Tony was never any good at keeping secrets," Ziva said. "We'd have known if he was on some 'special mission'. Besides, are you expecting us to believe that Tony came up with this elaborate plan to have his luggage show up in Rome just to throw us off? I can see him sending us on a wild duck chase …"

"Goose," McGee said. Ziva looked at him with a frown. "The phrase is wild goose chase," McGee offered helpfully.

"Fine," Ziva said. "Goose chase. I can see him sending us on a wild _goose_ chase for fun, but how would he know that Abby had planted a chip in his luggage?"

"I don't know," Jess said, frustrated and defeated, "but he did. All I know is that he's in trouble and he's not in Rome."

"Have you tried calling him in Rome?" Abby said.

"He's not IN Rome!" Jess exclaimed.

"How do you know that if you haven't tried calling?" Abby said, with a curious look.

Jess sighed heavily and hung her head. "Fine," she said, defeated. "Call him."

Abby put McGee's phone on speaker and dialed the number for the hotel that Tony was registered at for the seminar.

"Hotel Cicerone."

"I'd like the room of NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, please," Abby said, very formally.

"_Sì, un momento per favore_," said the operator.

"That number does not answer, _Signorina_," the operator said. "Would you like to leave a message?"

Abby looked a bit doubtful as she glanced around the room at McGee, Ziva and Jess.

"I really need to speak with him immediately," Abby said. "It's quite urgent."

"_Un momento_," the operator said. "I will transfer you to the front desk. Perhaps they can help."

"Front desk," the agents heard a few seconds later.

"I need to speak to NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," Abby repeated. "He's not in his room. It's quite urgent."

"_Un momento_," the desk clerk said. "I will page the lobby to see if he is present. Please hold."

It took thirty seconds for the phone to click through, then the assembled group heard, "Abbs! What's up? The Italian guy said it was urgent." Then, a sneeze.

"Geez Tony," McGee said. "You sound like death warmed over."

"Thanks a lot, McGee," the voice on the other line said. "The weather here sucks, I'm jet lagged, and I've got the sinus infection from hell. What's so important? I was just about to head to the spa for a little 'treatment', if you get my drift."

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay, Tony," Ziva said, looking smugly at Jess. "We'd received word that you could be in trouble."

Another sneeze and a cough. "I'm fine, except for the cold," he said. "Anything else?"

"Nope!" Abby bubbled. "Feel better – don't forget presents!"

"Arrivederci!" he said. And the call was disconnected.

"See?" McGee said. "He's fine."

"That wasn't him," Jess said, flatly.

Ziva sat back down with an exasperated moan. "You won't give up, will you?" she said.

"You don't think Director Shepard's behavior was just a little bit strange?" Jess said, trying to convince her.

"What did you expect?" Ziva said. "You called her a liar."

Jess looked at McGee and Abby. They weren't as convinced as Ziva, but they didn't speak up for Jess' side either.

"I told you," Ziva continued, "it would be impossible for Tony to set up the amount of cover you claim he has in place – including faking a _spontaneous_ international phone call – and keep all of that **and** a secret mission from us. He might be good, but he's not that good."

"That's going to get you in trouble one day, Ziva," Jess said as she headed for the elevator.

"What is?"

"Underestimating Tony."

Ziva, McGee and Abby all traded glances as Jess headed out.

* * *

Upstairs in MTAC, Director Shepard was standing with one of the communications technicians.

"I think that went very well, Robert, thank you," she said.

"No problem, ma'am," the technician said. As she walked out of the room, Robert silently wondered where Agent DiNozzo really was. Robert also wondered why he'd been asked to fake a phone call, and whether or not he could put this on his resume when he auditioned for the Pentagon Players' production of "The Man Who Came to Dinner."

Jenn watched Jess get onto the elevator and then went into her office. She was glad that Tony had insisted on looping any calls to him in Rome back to MTAC, just in case. And she was glad that some quick thinking on the communication tech's part had maintained DiNozzo's cover. But she was starting to wonder exactly where Tony was.

In the elevator, Jess stood with her forehead pressed against the cool metal of the car walls. She didn't buy the phone call at all. She knew it wasn't Tony on the phone. But she'd hit a dead end. She knew she wouldn't find any help at NCIS until she had more solid evidence than just his message and her gut. Then, it hit her. Her gut. That was it! She had to find someone who believed in the power of the gut.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Tony woke up in the small, dank offices of the Lisbon Restaurant Supply Company, a front for a number of illegal businesses, all tangentially related to a Portuguese crime syndicate called _Os Criminosos_. He'd been brought here from the hut in the forest the day before. It had taken several hours to get to the warehouse whose office he was in, but he wasn't quite sure whether they'd moved deeper into the forest or were in some little hick town across the state border in Ohio. He had no idea. It was dark when they got here and the guys had pretty much tied him to a chair and left him there overnight.

They did pull off the duct tape, for which he was thankful. And yes … it had hurt like hell. Of course, it also meant that he didn't need to waste time yelling for help. If they'd pulled off the gag, it was because there was no one who would hear him. "In space …" he had said ominously at the time, "… no one can hear you scream …" He followed that with a sinister laugh that unfortunately no one was there to appreciate.

He'd spent a couple of hours last night trying to get loose, but these guys were good. They were Portuguese rodeo guys or something, because nothing gave an inch. He couldn't loosen a single knot. "I'd need to be frickin' Houdini to get out of these," he'd said under his breath.

He'd slept, on and off. But it's kind of hard to get a good night's sleep tied to a chair, hungry, thirsty and having basically peed in your pants because you can't get up to go to the bathroom.

"Too much information?" Tony said, to his imaginary audience. "Sorry."

And then … morning came. Over the past few hours, he'd been questioned, yelled at, sworn at (in four languages, thank you Ziva for giving him that knowledge), kicked, slapped, and hit. He'd been hit in the head three – no, four – times. (He needed to maintain accuracy in case Ducky asked.) Hit four times. Headsmacked to the nth power. Side of the head plus fist equals huge headache. God, he hated getting hit in the head. It made him queasy and it made it hard to think. And he kept passing out.

Of course, all things being equal, getting hit in the head was better than, say, iron bars to the ribcage or baseball bats to the back of the legs. Both of which paled in comparison to knives and electric shocks. Basically? If it was something that someone did to Mel Gibson in the 'Lethal Weapon' movies or to Keifer Sutherland in '24', Tony really preferred it not happen to him. Yeah – fists were okay. I mean, if you were going to get beat on. The kicks were kind of annoying, since it was harder to have good aim with a kick than a punch, so you never quite knew where they were going to land, but still … better than metal bars, electricity, knives and baseball bats.

His hands were falling asleep. The ropes were insanely tight. He kept flexing his hands trying to maybe loosen them up a bit. It wasn't working.

He was tired. But he probably had a concussion, so falling asleep again wasn't really a good plan. What he needed to do was figure out a way to escape. He liked the word 'escape'. He always had. It just had a better ring than 'finding a way out' or 'getting away'. It was an active verb, 'escape' – active, not passive. (Tony made a mental note to thank Mrs. Archer, his grammar tutor, who told him repeatedly that yes, he _would_ use all of those terms again one day.)

"So …" Tony said to himself in his best Inigo Montoya accent. "I sum up. I do not know where I am; I do not know how long I've been here." He laughed a self-depreciating laugh and dropped the accent. "Two-for-two there, DiNozzo."

He wondered if Jess had gotten his message. Good old Uncle Jack. Had she had any luck convincing anyone he was in trouble? Jenny – Director Shepard … when had he started calling her Jenny? He couldn't remember. Was it important? Probably not. OK … so … Jenny was the only one who knew he was on this assignment, but she'd been very VERY clear that if something went sour, he was on his own.

It had been twelve days … eleven? … No, twelve. He was pretty sure it was twelve. By now, Jess would have tried to get information out of McGee and Ziva, who had none, and then out of Jenny, who wouldn't give any up. Tony wondered where she'd go next. Fornell? The Pentagon? He was kind of sorry that he'd found the tracking chip in the book Abby gave him. He'd moved the chip from his carry-on to the luggage he'd sent ahead to Spain. Luggage that would now be in Rome. His carry-on was in a storage locker at the Bradford Regional Airport, and if the chip was still in it, that would have been helpful information for whoever was going to get him out of this mess.

It was afternoon now. "And it was afternoon. On the twelfth day." Tony said, in his best Charlton Heston voice.

A car pulled up outside the building. 'Oh, great', Tony thought. 'More pounding on Tony to provide information Tony doesn't have'. Because the most unfortunate part of this entire scenario was that while there was plenty of evidence in this little office of quite a lot of very bad things – things in the 'child pornography' and 'white slavery' neighborhood; crime syndicate stuff – none of that was what he'd been sent in to look for. In fact, a military meth lab is about the only thing Tony DIDN'T find. Instead, he'd been mistaken for some double-agent informant and dragged in and tied up – way too tightly, had he mentioned that? – and asked all sorts of questions about who he worked for and why he was there and who he had told about the child pornography and white slavery businesses. And since he hadn't told anyone, and therefore had no answers, these guys were going to keep beating on him. Questions, Tony had. Answers, he was short on.

The door opened and three men walked in. They were dressed in long sleeved t-shirts and jeans and looked like they were headed out for a day of touch football or some tool shopping at Sears. But, no … they were here to make him talk.

"Today …" one of the men said with a creepy smirk, "today you will talk to us."

"Can't give what you don't got," Tony said with a smile.

Tony had only a moment to be relieved that they carried no iron bars, baseball bats, electric shock devices or knives before he felt the first hard kick in his lower back and he yelled out something that his grandmother would have definitely washed his mouth out for.

At least they weren't hitting him in the head.

* * *

It had taken Jess nearly 24 hours to track down the phone number she needed and even then she wasn't sure if it was the right one. It rang four times before it was answered.

"Gibbs," said an angry voice over a static-filled line.

"Gibbs … it's Jess."

"How the hell did you get this number?" Gibbs barked.

"It's nice to hear your voice too," Jess said, with a wary chuckle.

"How did you get this number?" he repeated, anger still evident in his voice.

"I work at the Pentagon, Gibbs, we have all sorts of resources," she said, her own anger rising. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking that just because you don't want to be found, no one can find you."

There was a pause.

"What do you want?" Gibbs asked, tersely.

Jess ignored his attitude and went straight to the point. "Tony's gone missing. I got a message from him that says he's undercover, but NCIS is saying that he's at a seminar and they won't give me anything else. I don't know if it's a covert thing that went sour or some combined op that the agencies won't talk about, but he didn't go off the grid on his own. He's in trouble, Gibbs. I'd have heard from him by now if he wasn't. I can tell something's wrong by the way Ziva and McGee can't answer my questions and by the way the Director won't. And I can tell because … well, I can tell because I know Tony."

There was silence from Gibbs.

"Gibbs?" she said, afraid that they'd been cut off by the fuzzy connection. "Are you there?"

"So?" Gibbs said, calmly.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'so'?" Gibbs repeated. "What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want you to do?" Jess asked, incredulously. "I want you to help me find him! I can't get any help here. I need someone who's got the skills but who's not connected to an agency. Someone who can work under the radar. I need you."

"Tony's a big boy Jess … he can take care of himself." Gibbs' tone was strangely indifferent.

"That's it?" Jess asked, not quite believing his response.

"Look," Gibbs said, with little emotion. "You've got help up there … agents, agencies. You work at the Pentagon, you have all sorts of resources," he said sarcastically, and then winced. But he continued. "Are you people going to call me every time you can't solve something?"

"You people?" Jess said, slowly. "You people." She was clearly surprised at his reaction. "Tony is your friend – I thought you'd care that he was …"

Gibbs cut her off. "Tony was a subordinate. Tony was a fellow agent. But we weren't friends. We didn't have beers on Friday nights and play pick-up football on Sundays. He worked for me."

"He worked WITH you," Jess spat through the phone. "And you owe him some loyalty."

There was silence.

"You came back for Ziva," Jess said, softly … almost pleading now.

"I owed Ziva my life, and my memory," Gibbs said, matter-of-factly. "I paid her back."

There was a pause, and this time it was Gibbs who thought that he might have lost the connection.

"And you don't owe Tony anything," Jess said, flatly. "I understand." Her voice changed to that of someone closing up a business call. "I'm sorry I bothered you, Gibbs. It won't happen again."

"Jess …" Gibbs began, but the line was dead.

Jess' plan was at a standstill. She didn't have the skills people like Gibbs had – she'd only barely skimmed by in her firearms qualifications and certainly couldn't handle hand-to-hand combat. And besides, she couldn't do an op like this on her own. From a strategic standpoint, she could run rings around just about anyone, but she had been counting on Gibbs to provide the brawn to her brains. Without him, she wasn't sure where to go. It had been twelve days since she got the message; two days since Tony was supposed to be back.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Jess looked around Tony's apartment. She'd taken a week of emergency leave from the Pentagon, knowing that if it took her longer than that to find him, he probably wouldn't ever be found. She'd gone to his place just to see if he'd left anything at all behind. He hadn't, of course. He was smarter and better than people gave him credit for. But she stayed there because it made her feel closer to him – as if being around his stuff would somehow lead her to where he was.

It was 11 o'clock at night. In another hour it would be thirteen days since Tony left for his 'seminar in Italy'. He'd be due back, according to McGee. Jess wondered how the Director would cover Tony's absence when he didn't show up on the return flight. "I'll bet Ziva is monitoring every single incoming passport stamp in the DC area, just waiting for Tony to show up and prove me wrong," Jess said to herself. She sighed. This would be one time she'd be happy to have Ziva trump her. Nothing would make Jess happier than to have Tony come strolling off an Alitalia jet into the International Terminal at BWI, all smiles and apologies and telling stories of some sex-starved _signorina_ who made him lose all track of time.

But, as Jess had been trying to tell everyone, Tony wasn't in Rome. It had taken her hours – and a half-dozen called-in favors – to find that out. Once she realized that NCIS either couldn't or wouldn't help, she started working her way through the system, threatening and cajoling, to hack into the systems she needed hacked to find the little bit of info that was out there. The official word was that Tony and two others had been sent out to find a meth lab. They failed, the op was called off, and all three men had been sent home. That was where the official information ended.

Ironically, it was Tony who was responsible for setting the next information wheel in motion. If he hadn't introduced Jess to her current boyfriend a few months ago, she'd still be begging for help. But thankfully, Aaron-the-boyfriend worked in IT at NCIS, where he was best friends with Casey, a records assistant who was an on-line gaming pal of Joni, who managed the travel arrangements for every single person under Director Shepard's employ. Which meant that Jess now had proof that Tony had never gotten on the plane and had never checked into the hotel.

Armed with this intel, Jess was able to go to an oft-used source – highly-placed and trustworthy – for the final pieces. According to this source, Tony was sent back out for ten days, to look for the lab and trace it back.

"OK," said Jess. "So he stayed out there. But why isn't he back?"

"I don't know," her source said. "They found the meth lab."

"They what?"

"They found the lab. Two MPs stumbled on it totally by accident."

"When? Where?" Jess asked, incredulous at this new development.

"Six days ago in Ohio. Like, twenty miles from where it should have been." Her source continued. "They spent three days retrieving evidence and analyzing everything. There was no connection – none at all – to anyone other than the four guys who were running it."

Jess digested this intel. "And the brigadier general's son?"

"Proof positive that he was involved," the source said. "The investigators called it 'absolutely irrefutable'. The evidence was boxed, sealed, and destroyed. Since the op to find the lab had been officially called off, word of its discovery never went any further. I doubt that Navy Intel or NCIS got the news. It was all buried to save the BG's son's rep. The two Marine MPs who found it were transferred to parts unknown."

Jess' mind was spinning, trying to process this information. "OK," she said, quickly re-grouping. "Never mind where they found it. Where were they looking? What was the original target area?"

"Northwestern Pennsylvania."

"Geez," Jess said, with a tired laugh, "could you be any less specific?"

"Sorry," her source said. "That's the best I can do."

"OK," Jess said. She was thinking out loud. "What else big is going on up there?"

"Northern Pennsylvania?" her source replied. "Let me think." There was the sound of computer keys and then a mouse clicking; it sounded as though the source was running through pages on a screen. "The only other bulletin we've got for that area is a crime syndicate briefing."

"Crime syndicate?" Jess said. "Who?"

"Looks like … _Os Criminosos_," the source said. "You heard of them?"

"I have," Jess replied. "But just as something on the periphery of a passport smuggling thing. Do you have a White Paper you can send me?"

"On its way … use encryption file 2B65KLR."

"Got it … great." She sighed. "Hey – thank you. Truly. I owe you one."

There was a laugh on the other end of the phone. "Yes, you do. Good luck." And the line went dead.

So whatever Tony was caught in, it had nothing to do with the original mission. That was going to make it a whole new ball game. If Tony didn't come back from the bogus conference in Italy, NCIS would have to report him as UA – "unauthorized absence." Jess was pretty sure that Shepard would find a way to look for him, but she'd have to cover her ass as well. Jenn had sent Tony out on a shadow mission and he'd gone missing. That wouldn't exactly do wonders for her career.

"OK," Jess said to herself. "Portuguese gangsters and northern Pennsylvania." It was after midnight. She put on another pot of coffee, pulled up a map on the computer and started making lists.

* * *

Tony was hungry. He was nauseous from all the head-hitting and stomach-kicking, but he swore he could smell burgers being grilled somewhere and it was making him crazy. He was actually doing pretty well in the 'hydration' department. He'd passed out three times during the last couple of rounds, and every time he had, the guys doing the hitting would douse him with water. He'd faked passing out the fourth time, knowing that the water was coming. Then, when he saw the move, he opened his mouth and caught as much as he could. He'd sputtered and fake-choked for effect, but he'd managed a pretty good drink of pretty cold water. So, not too bad in that regard.

The water had also kind of cleaned him off. It puddled a bit on the chair seat, which was uncomfortable in a pre-chafing kind of way, but wasn't all that bad since it helped with the pee smell. His hands were numb; he could barely move his fingers. He had to figure out a way to loosen the ropes or there was going to be permanent damage.

It was late and getting chilly. The guys had left the heat on when they left, although Tony didn't think it was a conscious decision. More likely, they just forgot to turn it off. At any rate, Tony was thankful. It had been cold, the past few nights, camping in the woods. And that was with adequate gear and without wet pants. The last thing he needed was a cold.

God, he was tired. His head had hurt for so long that it almost felt normal that way. He wondered if this was what his grandfather meant when he said, "I hurt so much I can't feel it any more." Grandpa D had been in constant pain for the last three or four years of his life. Tony hadn't understood it at the time, but he was getting a vague idea about it now. Tony stretched as many muscles as he could, just to keep the blood flowing, and then he closed his eyes and tried to sleep; to hell with the concussion.

* * *

By 9 a.m., Jess had tracked Tony to the Allegheny National Forest. It was dumb luck, really. She hadn't been sure where to start, so she started with places that were open all night or open early. She'd called a few all-night convenience stores and diners, and checked hospitals and bail bond offices. On a hunch, she'd targeted the National Forest. It was a good place to hide something – the trees would provide more-than-adequate cover and there were several sections of the woods that were nearly inaccessible. At sun-up, she'd gotten hold of the Park Service. The guy who answered was extremely helpful – or, more likely, bored and in need of something to do – and had combed through all the names on his manifest going back two weeks. Which is how Jess found out that a guy named Gus Bricker had taken out a two-week camping license. She recognized the name as one of Tony's cover names from an earlier op. The ranger remembered seeing 'Gus' the afternoon he'd registered.

"He had all brand-new gear and I thought, 'greenhorn'," the ranger laughed. "I figured he'd be crawling back to civilization before daybreak. But when I saw him again, a few days later picking up supplies at the general store, he looked like he was doing okay. Kind of stand-offish, though," the ranger continued. "It was like he wanted to be noticed, but not too much, y'know?"

As it turned out, 'Gus' had bought a hiking permit too – a five-day permit that allowed him pretty much unlimited access to the more obscure trails. He hadn't checked in since he'd passed the permit by the office at the main trailhead a couple days ago, but he wasn't required to. He just had to have it stamped again when he exited and pay the difference if he'd been out longer than five days.

Finding out all of that in one phone call was good, but the very _best_ piece of information that Jess got was that all hikers and campers using the inner trails were required to carry GPS trackers in case of emergency. They were issued by the park service when the hiking permits were assigned. They could be activated by either the hiker or the Park Service and would give a clear signal anywhere in the Forest. Tony hadn't returned his yet, which meant it was still on him. Or, at least, on his pack. All Jess had to do was talk someone into hacking into the GPS program. And hope that Tony had his pack with him. And hope that whoever had Tony hadn't destroyed the tracking device. Compared to what she'd already been through? No problem.

* * *

Ziva was worried. At NCIS, the mood was tense. Tony was supposed to have been back by now, but they'd had no word. Director Shepard had been sequestered in her office for hours. McGee was getting anxious, and Abby was – well, Abby was equal measures angry with herself that she'd so poorly hidden the chip, worried that Tony was hurt or lost or dead, and spitting mad at the Director for not telling them where Tony really was. It had taken McGee nearly an hour to calm Abby down, and he'd finally succeeded by reminding her that she needed to stay focused "for Tony."

"You can figure out ways to dismember Director Shepard _after_ we find Tony and get him back here, okay?" McGee had said, holding her face between his hands and making her focus her energy on the task at hand.

Ziva had put a flag on Tony's passport so that they'd know the second he got back into the country – she was planning on calling Jess with an "I told you so" as soon as he cleared Customs. But not only had Tony never come back into the US, they found out that he'd never left. Jess had been right. Tony wasn't in Rome.

"So what are we going to do?" came a timid voice from the side of the room.

"What?" Ziva said, almost forgetting that other people were there.

"What are we going to do?" Agent Lee asked again. "To save Special Agent DiNozzo?"

McGee looked at Ziva. "You have the best relationship with the Director," he said. "Will she tell you where he is?"

"I don't know," Ziva said. "But it's the only crust we have right now."

"Crumb," said McGee. "The only crumb."

"Really?" Ziva said with a slight frown. Agent Lee nodded. "Fine," Ziva said. She sighed and made her way up the stairs to talk to their boss.

Just as Ziva hit the first landing, Director Shepard came out of her office and looked at the team. "I need you all in MTAC," she said. "Now."

McGee stood and headed to the stairs. He looked back at Lee. "She means you too, Michele," he said. "Come on."

Special Agent Lee jumped out of her chair and followed the rest of the team into MTAC.

* * *

Back in Mexico, Gibbs was feeling guilty. It had been a day or so since he'd talked to Jess. He'd tried to call her back, but she never picked up. He couldn't blame her, really, although if she needed his help, she sure as hell needed to drop the grudge and pick up the damn phone.

Gibbs stared at the ocean. What the hell was Tony doing taking some rogue assignment? Probably trying to prove himself or maybe even show off a little. And now he was caught and didn't have back-up. Gibbs had taught him better.

A flood of memories came back suddenly – DiNozzo coming back to the office at 2 a.m. to work on cases; Gibbs with Kate, reminding her that Tony did his best work when no one was watching; DiNozzo going from inane joking to razor-sharp instincts in a split-second; DiNozzo at his heels, covering his back, always alert, always listening. Had Tony ever saved his life, Gibbs wondered. Would he hesitate if it were Gibbs in trouble?

"Damn!" Gibbs shouted to the sea, scaring the birds and drawing a curious look from an old lady digging for clams.

"What's wrong, Probie?" Mike Franks said, as he walked out of the shack with a beer. "You look like someone kicked your puppy."

Gibbs sighed and looked to the skies. The blue skies with the bright Mexican sun and the warm breezes and the no cares. "I have to go to DC," he said.

"Again?" Franks laughed a derisive laugh. "Guess that hotshot 'senior agent' of yours wasn't the right one to toss the team to there, Gibbs. Have a nice flight." And Franks headed down the beach to the bar.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

At Lisbon Restaurant Supply, Tony was battered, bruised and still conscious. A fact that he felt was both remarkable and unfortunate at the same time. Remarkable because there's no way he should have been able to take what he took and still be awake, and unfortunate because being unconscious would definitely be the way to go when you're dealing with this much pain and there are no vials of morphine feeding into your system.

Tony could feel two broken ribs and a little tightness in his lung that was fairly unpleasant. He'd been cuffed in the back of the head a dozen more times, kicked in the lower back, punched repeatedly in the kidneys, and slammed against the wall. The only good thing was that during all of it, the ropes binding his hands together had loosened just a little, and he finally had some feeling back. Of course, he had a little problem putting together any kind of cogent thought, what with the concussion and the breathing problem, but hey – it's the little things in life that count, you know?

Tony swallowed, and then coughed again, spitting blood down the front of his shirt. It occurred to him that they'd never hit him in the face. He wondered why that was. A cultural thing, maybe? He decided to wait until later to try and figure that out. Maybe Ziva would know. She knew stuff like that.

The three men from _Os Criminosos _had decided that they weren't going to get anything out of him – or that he truly did not know anything – and they'd left. From what Tony could understand of the Portuguese they spoke, they'd be back to _'disponha dele'_ – 'dispose of him' – soon. He probably had another day or two at best.

Tony tried to clear his mind and think about his options. He looked around the office trying to find anything that he could possibly use to signal someone. Provided he could get untied, stand, move, breathe, and all that other stuff that makes it possible for people to do things. His eyes fell on his hiking pack. The guys who'd been pounding on him for the past few days had brought his pack in from the truck and tossed it on the desk of the office. They'd gone through it, looking for ID and weapons. They'd taken his wallet, his gun, his extra ammo, his rental car keys, his brand new REI fleece jacket, his watch (the one Jess had gotten him for Christmas two years ago – God help them when she found THAT out) and his sunglasses. The sunglasses actually pissed him off the most. He loved those sunglasses. Paula Cassidy had gotten them for him in Cuba – they were the only thing she'd ever bought for him and now he'd have to explain how he lost them and try to talk her into getting him another pair.

Tony took as deep a breath as he could and looked more closely at the pack on the desk. Something was shining – not metal shiny, but it was definitely reflecting light. Tony's heart jumped when he realized that the _Os Criminosos_ guys had not taken the hiker's GPS tracker that the ranger had attached to his bag at the trailhead. It didn't look like anything valuable or technical – it was just a plastic key-chain-like tag in the shape of a fir tree with "Allegheny National Forest" stamped on one side and "Hiking Pass 2469" stamped on the other. Tony nearly started to cry. He had a way out. A way to be found. Of course, he couldn't get to the pack to activate the tracker from his end, and no one at the Ranger Station would start worrying for at least two more days, since that's when he'd be expected back. And that wouldn't really help, since he'd probably be dead in another 24 hours.

He suddenly felt incredibly tired and even more hopeless than he had before he'd noticed the tracker. He felt like those guys in "Saw" – the ones who had the means to get out of their imprisonment, but not really. "Okay," he said to himself, "let's not be over-dramatic; it's not as bad as 'Saw', but still …"

Tony slumped in the chair and closed his eyes, trying to send a message to the one person who would be most likely to be on his wavelength.

"Come on Jess," Tony pleaded in a raspy whisper, coughing up more blood and knowing that he was probably bleeding internally. "Come on Jessie … find me."

* * *

"Thank you …" Jess said again. "Thank you so much."

"Anything for you, you know that," said Aaron. Jess' new boyfriend was nearly as good of a hacker as McGee. It had taken him a half-hour to hack into the Park Service GPS system and track down Tony's location. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather come in here and work on this?" he said. "And you sound tired … have you slept since I talked to you last?" His voice carried just enough concern to make Jess feel a little warm and fuzzy. But she didn't have time for that right now.

"I'm fine, A," she said. "And I don't think that showing my face at NCIS would be a good thing right now. But thanks again for the help. You're the best! I'll call you when I get back."

"Get back from where?" Aaron asked, with a mix of curiosity and alarm. But he was talking to a dial tone.

Jess hung up the phone in triumph. She knew where Tony was! Or, rather, she knew where Tony's GPS chip was. One more phone call and she'd be on her way. Provided the guy on the other line said yes to what she'd be asking him to do.

"Hang in there, Tony," Jess said. "Just give me 12 more hours."

* * *

When Ziva, McGee and Lee walked into MTAC, they were startled to see Tony's photo larger-than-life on the screen. Next to it were photos of four young Navy cadets, a brigadier general, a meth lab covered in crime scene tape, and a map of the Northwestern Pennsylvania, with several areas circled.

"Agent DiNozzo had been sent on a combined agency op earlier this month to find a suspected meth lab being run by Naval and Marine personnel. It was a factor in the death of Brigadier General Stanley's son Nathan – you may have read about it in the sit reports."

They all looked up at the photos and nodded.

"The lab was never found and the op was closed, but Agent DiNozzo stayed in the field. We were convinced that the lab was out there and that there was an upper-level military tie-in. I made the decision to keep DiNozzo on the operation for ten more days to see what he could find. Those ten days have passed, and obviously, Agent DiNozzo has not returned."

"So … Jess was right," Ziva said, slowly. Her tone became angrier. "We've lost almost three days while you've been making sure your back is covered."

"Butt," "Behind," "Ass," McGee, Lee and one of the communication techs corrected, in unison. Director Shepard shot them all a look.

"Tony's been on a secret operation and we had no idea," McGee said, the disbelief in his voice mixed with a little bit of embarrassment. "He _is_ better than we give him credit for," he said, with a side-long glance at Ziva. She ignored the jab.

"Three days!" Ziva nearly yelled. "Do you know what can happen to someone in three days?"

"Yes, Ziva, I do," Jenn said with quiet anger. "Would you like to discuss that, or would you like to get started on finding him?"

Ziva narrowed her eyes and folded her arms, looking intently at the Director.

"The last information we can locate regarding Agent DiNozzo came from here," Jenn indicated one of the circled areas inside the National Forest. "He applied for a camping permit, under the name 'Gus Bricker'. He was planning to camp pretty far in-country, so we assume he felt he was close to finding his target."

Jenn indicated the other circled area on the map, which was more than 24 kilometers away from the first. "We've just now received intel that the meth lab was discovered here, nearly a week ago," Jenn said. "A fact that was kept from me until just this morning." She looked particularly angry, but her voice was calm when she continued. "Which means that Agent DiNozzo has been out in the middle of the Allegheny National Forest looking for something that isn't there."

"But it's two days past the end date of the assignment," McGee said. "He'd have come back in when he was supposed to."

"Not if he found something else," Agent Lee offered. "Or if someone found him."

McGee, Ziva and Jenn all looked at her.

"So what do we do now?" Ziva asked.

"I'm sending you three and a group of six others up to the last location where DiNozzo had been seen. Assume he's alive and captured and still in the area, unless you find evidence otherwise. I'll run the op from here; Ziva, you'll be in charge in the field."

Ziva opened her mouth to protest, but the Director cut her off. "I know that based on seniority, this should go to Special Agent McGee, but I need someone who has experience in forest tracking. Ziva did this in the Black Forest once …" McGee and Lee looked at Ziva with raised eyebrows, as Ziva did her best not to make eye contact. "… and I need that same expertise here. Do you understand Agent McGee?"

"Of course, Director," McGee said. He didn't feel slighted at all. One thing that he'd learned over the course of thousands of on-line hours in the world of MMPORPG's was that you assign the lead to the person with the right skills and weapons in their cache. In this case, that was Ziva.

"You have just under six hours to complete your research and prep work. Wheels up at 16:00."

Ziva, McGee and Lee all left MTAC and headed back down to their desks.

"The Black Forest?" McGee said to Ziva with curiosity.

"It's a long story," Ziva said, evading the question.

"Good. You can tell us on the plane," Lee said with a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

Jess picked up the phone and dialed the number she'd found in her encrypted 'Secure' file. She prayed silently as she waited for the line to pick up. He had to be there.

"Brown," came a welcome voice on the other end.

"Bob," Jess said. "It's Jess Kennedy." There was a pause. A little too long of a pause.

"Bob?" Jess said. "You there?"

"Yeah, Jess, I'm here," came the response. "I'm sorry … trying to monitor two conversations at once. One second." There was a pause and some chat in the background and then his voice became less distracted and took on a more friendly tone. "Hey – how the hell are you? It's been a year at least."

Jess smiled and let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I know. I'm good. I'm back in DC."

"Then an evening with many beers is in order," Bob said with a laugh. Bob "Whippoorwill" Brown was a member of a covert military operations group called, simply, "The Unit." They took on jobs that the government funded but didn't admit to – a Special Forces group that could do almost anything. Bob was the newest member, but he and Jess had known each other since before NORAD.

"Definitely," Jess said. "But first … I need your help."

"What's up, Jess?" Brown said, his curiosity piqued. Jess quickly briefed him on Tony's disappearance, what she'd found out about his location, and her efforts to build a team to go in and get him. As she was outlining where she'd tracked him to, two other members of The Unit had come in. Bob put her on speaker phone and they listened in.

"I'm thinking it's got to be _Os Criminosos_," Jess said. "According to my sources, they've been slowly moving into that area for years, and there's been a huge spike in their kind of crime. If Tony walked in on them …"

"… he'd be tortured for information until they were sure he didn't have any," Mack "Dirt Driver" Gerhardt interrupted. "And then they'd kill him."

"Are we certain that he's not already dead?" Jonas "Snake Doctor" Blane, the leader of The Unit, asked bluntly.

"No," Jess admitted, truthfully. "But I can't not go after him just because he might be dead already." She paused, trying to keep her voice composed and strong. "Dead or alive, he comes home."

The three men looked at each other.

"Give us a minute Jess," Brown said as he hit the 'mute' button.

"Guys?" he said. They looked skeptical. Bob continued. "If Jess is calling me, it's because she doesn't have anywhere else to go. We're literally her last chance."

"And you think her friend is really in trouble?" Mack asked. "She wouldn't be jumping the gun? Taking off just because she's a little worried?"

Bob shook his head. "No," he said. "She and Tony have this weird sixth sense about each other. If she's going after him it's because he needs going after." He looked at Jonas. "And my bet is that he's alive. She'd know if he was dead." The other men were thinking … weighing options. There was a bit more discussion and then, "she's a friend, guys," Bob said, earnestly. "And I owe her."

"Must have been a serious favor," Jonas said. Bob nodded. There was a beat of silence.

Mack stood and stretched. "Hell," he said. "I got nothin' to do this weekend." He grinned at Jonas.

"I'm supposed to re-sod the backyard," Jonas admitted. Then he smiled. "But it can wait."

Bob nodded at them both and turned back to the phone. "We're in Jess," he said.

Jess laughed in relief. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you."

"We meet here in three hours," Jonas said, now all business. "If you have the strategic chops that Brown says you have, your friend will be home before dawn."

"I'll see you at 14:00," Jess replied.

* * *

Gibbs stepped off the plane at Dulles Airport and felt the chill of autumn in Washington DC. Looking at the fall colors on the banks of the Potomac and feeling the crisp early autumn air reminded him of why he'd always loved DC. Mexico didn't have seasons. It was the same all the time. Balmy breezes, sand, sea, beer, _senoritas_. Gibbs chuckled. Tony would think that was heaven.

Gibbs hadn't been able to reach Jess, and hadn't tried to reach anyone else. He figured he might do a bit better if he maintained the element of surprise. He hopped in a cab and headed into Washington.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked.

"NCIS", Gibbs began. "It's at the Naval Yard." Then, "No … wait." He thought for a second. "935 Pennsylvania Avenue," he amended.

"That's FBI Headquarters," the cabbie said, looking in the rearview mirror. "You a Fed?"

"I retired," Gibbs said. He rode the rest of the trip in silence.

Forty minutes later, Gibbs was sitting in a conference room at the FBI, with Fornell, Sacks and a half-dozen other agents. He'd spoken to Fornell first, giving him a quick run-down of Jess' phone call and his own suspicions as to what was really going on, and making a grudging appeal for help.

"Explain to me again why you didn't go to NCIS with this, Jethro?" Fornell asked from across the table in the FBI conference room.

"They're already sending a team," Gibbs said.

"They're sending a team, and it sounds like this Specialist Kennedy is out there too," Fornell observed. "That's a lot of manpower looking for one guy."

"If he was one of yours, would you feel the same way?" Gibbs asked. The other men in the room looked intently at their boss.

"I'm just saying, Jethro, that there's a lot of muscle out there already looking for DiNotzo. Why this too?"

"It's a long story," Gibbs said. "Let's just say it's something I have to do. But I'm not stupid enough to think I can do it alone." He looked at Fornell, who seemed to understand.

"Do we know where Tony is?" Agent Sacks asked.

"In or near the Allegheny National Forest," Gibbs said. "Director Shepard told me that the NCIS team was headed there, but until she heard from them, that's all she had. He dropped out of sight working on some covert thing, and the last word they had from him was up in that area."

Fornell turned to one of the agents in the room. "Sinclair," he said, "run a check of any NCIS ops in Pennsylvania – focus on recent, high-level clearance stuff. It's not likely to be easy-access; it'll be just this side of 'unofficial'. Hack into whatever you have to hack into."

"Yes sir," the agent said. He stood quickly and headed out to his computer. Gibbs raised an eyebrow and looked at Fornell.

"You think you're the only one with a McGee?" Fornell said with a smile.

"I was more interested in the fact that you said 'run a check of any NCIS ops' pretty easily," Gibbs said, matching Fornell's smile. "That just rolled right off your tongue like you'd said it a thousand times before."

Fornell held his smile, but said nothing.

"So," Sacks said, anxious to break the silence. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"Find me a team," Fornell said. "And gear up."

"Mind if I ask who's paying for this, Agent Fornell?" A man standing in the corner of the room was looking expectantly at the agent.

"NCIS," Fornell said, with a glance back at Gibbs. "It's their guy, bill them."

* * *

Back at Lisbon Restaurant Supply, Tony had been dragged and dumped in the warehouse behind the office. "Dumped" being the definitive term here. They'd literally picked up the chair, with him still tied to it, and tossed him in a back corner.

As he lay there, he could hear the men talking – discussing business, telling jokes, trading stories about kids and wives. 'It's a crime syndicate coffee klatch', Tony thought to himself. 'A bunch of Portuguese red hat ladies'.

He found that he was actually more comfortable on the floor, once the initial pain from the tossing and dumping had faded from sharp and burning to dull and throbbing. His hands were tingling – the way your leg tingles when it falls asleep and is just coming back to life. He was encouraged by that. It meant that blood was flowing again. He could just barely wiggle his fingers and feel that they were wiggling. He couldn't wait to be out of the ropes. At this point he didn't care about the cracked ribs or the bruises on his back and chest or the hits to his head. He just wanted his hands free.

Looking around him in the dim light, Tony could see a lot of supplies – office supplies, boxes of plates and flatware, stacks of wastebaskets and recycling bins, and pallets of napkins and toilet paper. The whole office up front was filled with files and laptops and business records for the crime syndicate; he was sure of it. But back here it was a regular Wal-Mart. His concussed brain couldn't process how the two things fit together, but he hoped he'd get a chance to figure it out.

Tony took a few fairly painful deep breaths. He was thirsty now. Not hungry so much, since he was still nauseous from the beatings. But boy, he could use a glass of water. He could see a few jugs of something on a shelf far above him, but couldn't read what they were. Could be distilled water, could be carpet cleaner. It didn't matter. He couldn't get to them anyway.

He heard footsteps headed his way, and saw one of the guys from the group coming towards him. Tony closed his eyes, feigning sleep or unconsciousness. He just didn't have the strength to do more. He heard a kind of angry growl and then felt yet another glass of cold water thrown in his face. OK … so … cold water. That was kind of nice. He sputtered and opened his eyes, not wanting the guy to decide to kick him awake instead.

"Sleep well," the man said as he turned to walk away. _"O amanhã é dia do lixo."_

"Tomorrow is trash day."


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Jess was at The Unit's operations center at 14:00 sharp. She'd brought as much intel with her as she could, along with some basic gear and weapons. No way was she staying behind. She didn't think Bob would even suggest that they go in without her, but she was ready to argue her case if she had to.

It took them nearly three hours to go through everything and put together a workable plan. They'd be working off the location of the GPS tracker, with the initial assumption that Tony was nearby. If it turned out that the GPS was in a location separate from their objective, they'd gather intel by whatever means necessary, and then work outward in concentric circles from the GPS point. If they were lucky, Tony would be right where they thought he was. If not, they'd keep looking until they found him. Jonas had managed to score a heat-seeking radar device so that they could do deep searches in the Forest if necessary.

The guys devised code names for Tony and for Jess, just in case they needed them. Tony became "DiNiro", which he'd have loved. Bob looked at Jess and assigned her the code name "Saint Joan."

"Um … the martyr?" Jess said with concern. "Is there a part of this plan I don't know about?"

Bob laughed. "She's the patron saint of captives and imprisoned people," he said. "It seemed fitting."

"It's perfect," said Mack with a grin.

"Okay," Jonas said. "One more time."

"Mack and Jonas will take point; Jess and I will come in behind," Bob said, drawing a diagram on the greaseboard on the wall. "We go in here, and fan out … here." He pointed to a central area on the diagram. "We're not sure how large the area is where Tony is being held or how many people will be there with him. We won't know how much coverage we'll need until we get inside, so we need to rely on the element of surprise. The forest should provide us with adequate cover." He moved to a bulletin board with maps tacked on it and pointed to a clearing about two miles northeast of the GPS signal. "If we land here, we'll be three clicks away. It shouldn't take us more than a half-hour to make it to the objective. Once we clear the area, we can have our transport set down … here," he indicated a smaller clearing about a quarter-mile from the signal. "If Tony's injured, it'll be easier to get him out from there."

They all scanned the maps and diagrams.

"We clear?" Bob asked.

Everyone nodded. Mack did a quick inventory of supplies.

"I'll need to pull a few more pieces of hardware out of the armory," he said. "And we should probably double-up on the emergency med gear," he looked at Jess, then Bob. "We don't know what we'll find when we get there." Brown nodded; Jess nodded as well and then took a deep breath and blew it out, calming her nerves.

"Okay," Jonas said. "Now all we need is wings."

Jess looked at her watch – it was just after 6 p.m. "Damn," she said. "He's late."

"Who's late?" Mack asked. Then they heard the faint sound of a helicopter rotor.

Jess looked up. "Our ride," she said, with a grin as she headed outside. The three men glanced at each other, and then Jonas pulled Bob aside. "How many people owe her favors?"

"There's really no way of knowing," Brown replied with a straight face and a shake of the head. The three men headed outside.

The chopper landed and the pilot hopped down from his seat. "Hey Jess," he said with a smile. She gave him a quick hug.

"Hey Billy," she said. "Thanks for coming." Jess turned to the three men. "Jonas Blane, Mack Gerhardt, Bob Brown, meet Billy Wilcox, code name 'Firefly'. He's a friend of mine from California." The men exchanged handshakes.

"What'd she do to get _you_ here?" Mack asked with a wary smile.

"She asked," Billy responded with a shrug.

"Nice bird," Bob said, checking out the chopper to make sure it was appropriately equipped.

"I used to fly F-14's," Billy said. "But they bumped me down to chopper pilot a few years ago." He flashed a look at Jess.

"I said I was sorry," she said, with an almost-pout.

Billy chuckled. "She's slower," he said, indicating the helicopter. "But she carries more. What's the plan?"

"Come on," Jonas said. "Help us load up and we'll brief you on the way."

* * *

It was pitch black by the time the NCIS team was nearing the main hiking station at Allegheny National Forest – the last place they knew for certain that Tony had been. They had flown from Washington DC to Bradford Regional Airport on a small "puddle-jumper" plane that NCIS had commandeered from a nearby flight school. McGee couldn't ever remember being on so small a plane, and it made him queasy. He'd thrown up twice in the plane and once after they landed. Neither Ziva nor Michelle had had a problem with it, but he had hated the experience. He was glad that they'd be driving back.

An NCIS team from the Pittsburgh office had delivered two fully-outfitted vans to the airport for the use of the DC team. Ziva, McGee and Lee took one, while the other six DC agents crowded into the second van. They had planned to split more evenly until the others saw that Ziva would be driving. "Better cramped than dead," one of them had said to McGee.

The winding, unlit forest roads were a challenge to navigate – without the mapping program on the computer, they'd have been driving in circles. Thankfully, though, the interior of the park was pretty well documented – they'd only had to double-back once – and most of the main roads were fairly smooth. Ziva was a little out of her element, driving in such thick forest, on such rustic roads, and with limited visibility. She was driving more slowly and with more care than normal, which frustrated her but made it much more pleasant for her passengers.

"There's the main trailhead," McGee said, checking his map and then pointing to the rustic cabin. The building was covered in bulletin boards that held maps, weather advisories, emergency information, and photographs of dangerous animals and plants that hikers were likely to encounter on the trails. Near the cabin were a 24-hour convenience store, a coin-operated laundry, and a small emergency medical clinic.

"According to this," Lee said, reading from an e-mail on her Blackberry, "Tony registered here as 'Gus Bricker'. Do you need a photo to show the trail ranger?"

"That would be great, Michele, thanks," McGee said, suddenly impressed at Agent Lee's preparation and instincts. She transferred a photo of Tony to McGee's Blackberry. The hiking cabin and clinic were closed, but the convenience store right next door was open. McGee ran the Tony / Gus photo past the clerk. The clerk was an older guy with a somewhat grizzled appearance, who looked like he could still hike up the side of a mountain if he felt like it. He remembered seeing 'Gus' several days back, picking up supplies.

"He wasn't real chatty," the clerk said. "Looked like he was on a mission, you know? Like he had an agenda and had stuff to get done." The clerk shook his head. "This place is supposed to be where you go to relax. He was way too intense."

"Did you see where he went?" McGee asked.

The clerk pointed him in the direction that the rented SUV had gone. "There's some long-term camping sites up there, and most of the inner trails start or end up there. Check the outer ring first. The inner ring sites were full-up a month ago."

"Thanks," McGee said. As he turned to leave, the clerk stopped him.

"You'll want to wait around for the hiking cabin to open up," he said. "All the hikers have to wear GPS tags before they can go out on the trail. They'll have this guy on the log."

"OK …" McGee said, thankful for the new information, but not wanting to wait four hours for the ranger to arrive.

"So," said the clerk. "Who is this guy? This Gus Bricker?"

"He's a … friend," McGee said cautiously. "Why?"

"Because you're the third person who's asked about him over the past three days. I should tell you though, the first one – the girl – she's got you beat; she called a couple days ago."

McGee ran back to the waiting SUV. "He's wearing a GPS device," he said to Ziva. "The log is in the hiking cabin."

"But there won't be a ranger there until 5 a.m.," Lee said from the back seat.

Ziva quickly got out of the van, went to the cabin, picked the lock, went inside, pulled what they needed, and got back in the van. "Here." She passed a piece of paper back to Lee.

Michele looked up at Ziva. "Wow," she said, as she programmed the information into the GPS program. She pointed to the location on the map and told Ziva which way to go.

"According to the clerk, there's a woman – probably Jess – who called for information a couple of days ago, and someone else is looking for him too," McGee said.

"Let's go," Ziva said as she pulled out of the trailhead parking area. Both McGee and Lee screamed and cursed as the SUV careened away.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

It was just after midnight when The Unit, plus Jess, came quietly through the trees, having been dropped at the clearing two miles west. They carried weapons, smoke grenades, two packs of medical and evac supplies, night-vision goggles and communications equipment. They slowly made their way around what looked like a large Butler-style building – a metal warehouse designed for temporary use. Attached to the front of the building was a double-wide trailer that looked as though it were an office of some sort. The warehouse building was dark, but there were lights on in the trailer.

Mack was able to get the first look inside. Three men were sitting at a table going over long lists of numbers and text. There were beer bottles and coffee cups littering one of the tables, and the remains of a meal on a counter in the kitchenette area. There were files, photos, books, ledgers and boxes of papers stacked on a larger table in the center of the room. A couple of bloody towels were on the floor near the bathroom. A radio was playing static-filled music in the background; there was a slightly tattered Portuguese flag hanging from the rafters.

One of the men inside sensed movement and looked up. He pulled out a gun and started shooting towards the side window. At that moment, Mack and Jonas burst in through the main entrance, firing volleys as the three men ducked behind any cover they could find. Jess and Bob burst in the side door, covering the exit that connected to the larger building.

"_Polícias! Deixe cair suas armas!"_ Mack shouted. A short volley of automatic gunfire came from Bob's weapon.

"_Rendição! Rendição!"_ came the call from behind the crates. "Surrender! Surrender!"

"Where'd you learn Portuguese?" Jonas asked Mack as the men in front of them quickly dropped their weapons and raised their hands.

"It was one of those DVD things," Mack said, as he started tying up the three crime syndicate members. "Tiffy and I were planning a trip to Lisbon last year."

"You found a DVD language series that included 'Drop your weapons'?" Jonas said, as he continued to cover the group.

"Figured that one out on my own," Mack said with a grin. "Thought it might come in handy."

As Mack and Jonas expertly tied up their new prisoners and gathered evidence, Bob and Jess went swiftly through the connecting door and into the larger warehouse, looking for Tony.

"DiNozzo!" Brown yelled over and over again, his voice nearly echoing in the metal building.

"Tony!" Jess' voice followed Brown's, pleading for a response.

They were ten minutes into the search when Brown finally heard a faint sound from a back corner.

A weakening male voice coughed once and then uttered a single word. "Here."

Brown turned down an aisle piled with banker's boxes and wooden crates. "Again!" he said loudly. "I need to you to say it again."

"I'm … here," he heard, closer this time. One more corner, and Bob had him. There was Tony, still tied to the chair, lying on his side, slightly hidden by a crate. From the marks on the floor, it appeared as though he had tried to slide himself behind one of the wooden crates for protection when the shooting started.

"Jess!" Brown yelled as he crouched to help the injured agent. "I've got him – he's over here!"

"Jess …" Tony whispered, a shadow of a smile forming on his lips. "I knew …"

"Take it easy," Brown said as he carefully untied the ropes binding Tony's hands. Tony sighed and groaned in relief once his hands were free.

"God, that feels better than sex," he said as he painfully flexed his fingers. Brown laughed.

At that moment, three shots rang out followed quickly by the sounds of a struggle and a curse from Mack. Brown did his best to cover Tony's body when the gunfire started, and stayed as a shield until he heard Jonas' deep voice declare, "Clear!"

Jess came around the corner of a shelf unit and looked at Bob, who had finished untying Tony. He'd pulled the chair away and was gently trying to lay Tony out flat so he could take a look at the man's injuries.

"How's he doing?" Jess said, worry evident in her voice.

"He was conscious before," Bob said. "Now … not so much. But he's alive." He looked up at Jess and noticed blood between her fingers as she held her left shoulder. "Shit," he said. "What happened?"

"We missed one; he had a gun," Jess explained as she sat down hard next to Brown. "Grazed me and just missed Mack."

"He okay?" Brown asked, quickly taking a look at Jess' arm and determining that it was nothing serious.

"He's pissed," she said with a slight smile, "and the guy with the gun is currently … uncomfortable."

Brown smiled and handed Jess a bandage for her arm, then turned his attention back to Tony, who was still unconscious. He covered his patient with blankets, put a folded blanket under his head and started taking vital signs. Then he inserted an IV.

"I need a stretcher back here when you guys have a minute," he yelled.

"On the way," came Jonas' reply.

"He's pretty beaten up," Bob said to Jess as he lifted the blanket here and there, checking major organs and noting injuries. "On the surface, it doesn't look bad, but I'm betting there's internal bleeding and some deep tissue damage. Probably cracked or broken ribs, and they did a number on his side and lower back. And he's running a fever, so there's probably an infection growing somewhere."

"What's that smell?" Jess said, looking around for the source.

Bob looked at her with raised eyebrows and a slight smile. "Jess, the guy's been tied to a chair for three days. Chances are he didn't get bathroom breaks."

Jess looked at Tony. "Ah," she said. Then, "Ew."

"Yeah," Bob said, looking sympathetically down at the agent. "They generally don't mention that in the agency manual."

Jonas and Mack came around the corner with a stretcher. They carefully loaded Tony on, taking care to jar him as little as possible. He groaned slightly, but remained unconscious.

Bob was still kneeling on the floor, adjusting blankets and making sure the IV line was set, when he looked up at the group. Jonas' face was creased with worry. Mack had a nasty cut on the side of his face. Bob looked back down at Jess, still sitting beside him. Blood was seeping through the temporary bandage on her arm, and a visible bruise was forming on her jaw.

"What happened?" Brown said, indicating Mack's cut and the bruise on Jess' face.

"Fight," Mack said, with a slight grin.

"Fell," Jess said, with a shake of her head.

"Sorry, darlin'," Mack said with a smile. "I win." Jess smiled as she got up off the floor, and then wavered, slightly light-headed from the adrenaline rush, gunshot wound and quickly building fatigue.

"Whoa," Mack said, as he caught her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath and blinking a couple of times. "Let's go."

The group headed outside with Brown and Jonas taking the stretcher and Mack helping Jess along. The chopper was just landing at the rendezvous point as they came to the edge of the clearing. They transferred Tony onto a more stable evac gurney for the trip out. The entire operation had taken less than 20 minutes.

"What about them?" Jess said, referring to the four men who were bound to various points in the office and warehouse.

"We'll call the local FBI office," Mack said. "They'll be out to pick them up this afternoon."

"Hey Mack?" Bob yelled over his shoulder. "Go back in and tweak the ropes a little, will you? They had Tony tied so tightly that his hands are swollen."

Mack and Jess headed back inside and did as they were told. The men protested loudly as the ropes around their arms and wrists were made as tight and uncomfortable as possible.

"Don't worry, boys," Mack said with a smile. "It's only for a few more hours." He and Jess headed back out side.

"You okay?" She indicated the cut on his head.

"This?" Mack said. "It's nothin' – I get more banged up playing football with my wife."

They made it to the helicopter just as the moon was rising through the trees. Jess stood by the door as they finished securing Tony's gurney into the chopper. Bob pulled her into the bay and belted her in next to Tony.

"You okay?" Brown asked her.

She was bruised, bleeding and exhausted. "I'm great," she said, smiling up at him.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

A chopper was skimming the top of the trees as Ziva, McGee, Lee and six other NCIS agents drove up to the offices of the Lisbon Restaurant Supply Company. If any of them noticed it, they didn't comment; everyone was focused on the mission at hand. On Ziva's count, the eight agents came bursting into the office, guns drawn.

"NCIS! Drop your weapons!" they all shouted in a cacophony of orders.

"No English! No English!" one of the men cried. He was obviously confused and frightened. Ziva looked up at the Supply Company sign and the flag hanging in the rafters.

"_Onde está o agente!"_ she demanded.

The oldest of the men tied up on the floor sighed. "Suddenly everyone speaks Portuguese," he said, shaking his head. His accent was distinctly New Jersey Jewish.

"Where is the agent?" Ziva asked again.

"What agent?" the man said.

"The NCIS agent – Tony DiNozzo."

"CSI … who?" the older man said.

"Gus Bricker," McGee said, when he saw the confused faces of the men.

"Bricker was an agent?" one of the other men said.

"Yes, he was an agent!" Ziva exclaimed, angrily. "Where is he?" She put her gun in the older man's face.

"He … he left with the men," the younger _Os Criminosos_ man stuttered. "The three men and the woman. In the helicopter."

At that moment, they heard a door being broken through in the back of the trailer. The assembled group heard several voices loudly announcing "FBI!"

Ziva, McGee, Lee and all the others spun around and stood, dumbfounded, as Gibbs, Fornell, Sacks, and five FBI agents came running in from the warehouse.

"He's not here," the older _Os Criminosos_ man said with a tired sigh, rolling his eyes and slumping against his ropes.

"Who's not here?" Gibbs said, totally confused at the situation.

"Tony," McGee said. "Hi Boss – Gibbs," he added, with a confused look of his own.

Fornell looked at Gibbs, eyebrows raised and the hint of a smile starting. "Uh … Gibbs?" he said.

Gibbs holstered his weapon. He laughed a self-depreciating laugh as he surveyed the scene. "It would appear, Tobias, that Specialist Kennedy got here first," he said.

"Well, she did have a two-day head start," Lee said with a shrug.

"Maybe Tony got out on his own," Ziva said, not quite wanting to believe that NCIS and the FBI had both been bested by some other team.

"If that's true, then we **have** been underestimating Tony," McGee observed.

Everyone in the room looked at him, then at each other, at a loss as to what to do next.

"If I may …" the elder _Os Criminosos_ man began, painfully trying to flex his hands. But by then, everyone had turned around and walked out of the warehouse, leaving the four bound men to sit and wait until the local authorities showed up later that day.

* * *

In the helicopter, Tony stirred, blinked his eyes and tried to figure out where he was and what had just happened. He could see metal and a couple of guys in fatigues and maybe an IV bag? He blinked again to focus. Jess moved into his line of sight.

"Hey you," she said with a smile.

His eyes cleared and he realized who he was looking at, then he returned the smile. He blew out a breath that hurt more than it should have. "You got my message," he said.

"Yeah," she replied, as if that explained it all.

He looked around and saw the faces of the men in fatigues watching him with equal parts worry and relief. "Who are these guys?" he tried to say, but all that came out was, "… these guys?"

Jess looked around at the members of The Unit sitting near them. "Friends," she said simply.

"Really," Tony said, confusion evident in his face and uncertainty evident in his voice. "Where …?" he began.

"I can be very resourceful," she replied, taking Tony's hand and squeezing it lightly.

"No shit," Mack piped in from the back. The other men laughed. Tony shifted, and pain shot through his side.

Bob pulled himself into Tony's line of sight. "You're okay, mostly," he said. "There's internal bleeding, and we're not sure of the extent of the damage, but we've got you stable. Try not to move."

Tony nodded. His head hurt. Hell, everything hurt. "Thanks," he said. And he genuinely meant it.

"Yeah … well …" Bob said, smiling down at his patient. "Any friend of Jess …" he began. Then he laughed. "… is a very, very brave man."

Tony smiled and then looked again at Jess. For the first time he noticed the bruise on her face and the bloody bandage on her arm. "You're hurt," he said, with a worried look at her and then back at Brown.

"No. It's nothing," Jess said. "A scratch. Don't worry."

Tony was clearly anxious, trying to sit up. "But you're hurt," he repeated. Brown tried to stop him, but Tony continued to try and move.

"Settle down," came Jonas' deep commanding voice. Tony calmed almost instantly. "She's fine," Jonas continued. "She'll need some care when we get to Bethesda." Then, he laughed. "I hear you two have a scar competition. You're both going to have new entries after this."

Tony smiled an exhausted smile and squeezed Jess' hand. "You're okay?" he said, his eyelids drooping as his head settled deeper into the pillow.

"Never better," she said, kissing his hand and smoothing his blanket. "Hang in there; we're almost home."

* * *

When the NCIS team got back outside, Ziva called Director Shepard to let her know the status of the operation. Jenn was surprised that Jess had apparently gotten there first. She made a note to review the other woman's resume.

"Is the site secure?" Jenn asked.

"There are four men here," Ziva reported. "From where, we're not exactly sure. They seem to be Portuguese? They were tied up when we got here and the place has been cleaned of evidence. We had Tony's location, but we never figured out what he'd stumbled onto."

"I've recently received intel that they may be Portuguese crime syndicate," Jenn said. "If they're secure, leave them. It's not our jurisdiction and the appropriate authorities have been notified."

Jenn was about to say more when Ziva interrupted. "And Gibbs is here," she said.

"I thought he might be," Jenn replied with a sigh. Cynthia walked into MTAC and handed her a message. Jenn passed along the information to Ziva. "Word has it that Tony has been 'extracted' and is en route back to DC."

"Is he alright?" Ziva asked.

"It doesn't say," Jenn replied. "The message I got was brief – just that he'd gotten out and was headed home."

"How?" Ziva asked, truly perplexed at the entire situation.

"I'm looking forward to hearing that story too, Ziva," Director Shepard said as she hung up the phone.

Ziva relayed the information she'd received to the rest of the group.

"So he's okay," McGee said, anxiously.

"As far as we know," Ziva said. "I guess we can ask him when we see him."

Ziva then passed along her info to Gibbs and Fornell. The NCIS group got back in their vans for the return trip to Washington as Gibbs and Fornell got into the FBI Hummer. They were shaking their heads and wondering how this could have all gone so strangely.

"So in this case, Jethro," Fornell was saying, "would the FBI be considered the right hand that doesn't know what the left is doing, or the left hand that is clueless about the right?"

"I'd say we could choose whichever hand you preferred, Tobias," Gibbs said. "Personally, it's my right hand that will be smacking DiNozzo when I see him."

"Give him a little extra pat for me," Fornell said. He motioned the driver to go. They followed the NCIS vans out of the forest.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

By the time the helicopter landed on the roof of Bethesda Naval Hospital, Tony was unconscious. A crash team met them as the chopper doors opened, and three medics immediately took over, swiftly getting information, moving Tony onto a fresh gurney and transporting him to ICU and then surgery. A fourth medic put Jess in a wheelchair to transport her to Emergency to get checked over and stitched up. Bob hopped out of the chopper and handed her a large Army-green pack.

"This is everything we found at the scene," he said. "Papers, logs, computer discs, photos – we grabbed anything even remotely incriminating. Inside the black envelope are our fingerprint cards so that you can eliminate those prints on everything when you test."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"We can't stay. Just got another call. Billy's gonna drop us off." He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head and climbed back into the front seat. "Let us know how he's doing, okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you!" she yelled over the roar of the blades, even though that didn't even come close to expressing what she wanted to say.

Brown grinned a Tony-like grin and waved. "Day in the park!" he said. "Beers on you in DC – two weeks!"

She gave him a thumbs up as the chopper took off and the medic steered her towards the ER.

It was early enough in the morning that the ER wasn't too busy. As Jess was wheeled in, a nurse met her at the door, quickly assessing her injuries and pointing to a treatment area.

"A man was brought in on a stretcher just a few minutes ago," Jess said to the nurse, who was pulling paperwork for her to fill out as she waited for a doctor. "I'm one of the people designated to make medical decisions for him. I need to know what's happening."

"I'll get you an update as soon as I can," said the nurse. "For right now, fill these out so we can get you taken care of." Then the nurse hurried off, leaving Jess sitting in the wheelchair in a curtained-off treatment area. The adrenaline that had kept her going over the past 48 hours was pretty much gone, and she slumped in the chair. She looked at the clipboard in front of her and couldn't make much sense of what was on the papers. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she felt herself losing it. An orderly came in to check on her and noticed her expression and body language. He touched her on the shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"I'm sorry," the orderly said. "I didn't mean to scare you. But you looked kind of zoned out. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

Jess took a couple of breaths and smiled a small smile up at him. "I'm okay … sorry … it's been a long couple of days."

The orderly looked at her. "Is there anyone I can call?" he asked again.

"Oh," Jess said, realizing that she hadn't answered the question. She thought for a moment. "Yes, there is. Dr. Donald Mallard – he's with NCIS. I don't know his number, but …"

The orderly cut her off with a smile. "If he's NCIS, he'll be listed here – work, cell and pager. We'll find him." He looked down at the clipboard in Jess' lap. "Do you need help with those?" he asked, indicating the forms.

Jess took another deep breath and tried to regroup mentally. "No," she said. "I can do them. I just need a second. Any chance I could get some water, or coffee, or ... Scotch?" she said with a tired laugh.

"I'll get you some water," the orderly said with a chuckle. "And I'll get in touch with Dr. Mallard."

Jess thanked him and started filling out the paperwork.

The next few hours were a buzz of activity. Jess filled out her paperwork and was then handed Tony's. She and Tony were each other's 'medical emergency' contact people, so they had each other's personal and medical information pretty much committed to memory. Her fatigue was causing her to be a little fuzzy on some of his past injuries, but Jess was able to complete all the important stuff – allergies, major operations, the plague – without a problem.

While she was filling out forms, a doctor came in and examined her bruised face and her injured arm. The arm took fourteen stitches and a couple of shots of antibiotics. The bruised face received an ice pack and a bandage for the scrape on her jaw. About half-way through the stitching, Ducky walked in. He was the perfect balance of concern and comfort, admonishing Jess for putting herself in danger while being grateful that she'd done what she'd done and gotten Tony to safety.

"At some point, my dear, you shall have to tell me the whole story," Ducky said. "But for now, you stay here and rest a bit, and I'll see what I can find out about Tony's condition."

"Thank you," Jess said, gratefully. She leaned onto the raised back of the exam table where they'd just stitched up her arm and fell asleep almost instantly. When Ducky returned with news about Tony, he didn't have the heart to wake her. Tony was, according to the doctors, doing remarkably well, all things considered. He had woken up while he was being prepped for surgery and even managed a weak attempt at flirting with a nurse. They were currently repairing some damage to his liver, but everyone seemed quite positive about his prognosis. So Ducky let Jess sleep for a bit as he tried to contact the rest of the team. He was unable to reach anyone. After leaving a series of messages, he went back inside the treatment area to wake up Jess and give her a progress report.

"Jessica," Ducky said softly, as he gently shook her uninjured shoulder. "My dear, wake up."

Jess stirred slightly and then suddenly burst awake, nearly knocking Ducky over as she sat upright. "What!" she exclaimed, momentarily confused as to where she was. She looked at Ducky with alarm. "Ducky … what's wrong … what happened?"

"Calm down, my dear," Ducky said with a chuckle. "You simply fell asleep. And it's not surprising – I would bet that you've hardly slept or eaten since this whole adventure started."

"How's Tony?" Jess asked, clearly worried and still a bit disoriented.

"He's doing well," Ducky said, reassuringly. "There is quite a lot of internal damage, but the doctors are slowly working their way through it. When I last spoke to one of the nurses, the procedure was concentrating on Tony's liver and the surrounding area. But they said he'd been conscious as they prepped him for surgery, and the doctors were quite optimistic."

Jess sighed and lay back again against the raised back of the exam table. "Thank God," she said.

"Indeed," Ducky agreed. There was a pause and then Ducky asked, "And how are _you_ feeling?"

"I'm not sure," Jess said, with a frown and a chuckle. "My arm hurts, my head hurts, and I feel like I've just done a triathlon backwards."

Ducky laughed lightly. "I imagine offering to take you home to rest wouldn't really get us anywhere, would it?"

She shook her head.

"I thought not," he said. "How about if we head down to the cafeteria and see if there's anything resembling food down there. I suspect you could use a bit of something, and I could use a cup of tea. I'll have the nurse page me if anything changes."

Jess looked around the room, as if trying to determine any other course of action. Then she sighed and smiled. "To the cafeteria," she said. As they walked down the hallway together, Jess asked, "Have you gotten in touch with anyone from NCIS?"

"No," Ducky replied. "I've left messages for everyone from the Director down to Agent Lee. But so far, no response."

Ducky and Jess spent about an hour in the cafeteria, Ducky sipping tea while Jess wolfed down two bagels, a large orange juice and an order of what appeared to be scrambled eggs, but the jury was still out. They were just heading back to the waiting room when they were intercepted by a nurse.

"Doctor Mallard," the nurse said, obviously anxious. "You need to come with me."

"What's wrong?" Ducky said with alarm, as he and Jess quickly followed the nurse to the elevator.

"Your friend, Agent DiNozzo? There's been a …complication."

As the elevator doors closed, Jess closed her eyes and silently prayed as Ducky put his arm around her in a supportive hug. They headed up to the surgical wing.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

By mid-morning, the NCIS and FBI teams were back in Washington DC. It had taken them some time to wrap up the local paperwork and get back. They'd run into several road blocks, all of which had been set up when the local police started getting reports of helicopters and 'mysterious unmarked black vans' going into and out of Allegheny National Forest. By the time they finally made it onto the main roads, they were all tired, cranky and hungry, so both teams decided to stop for something to eat.

At the diner, McGee checked his messages and noted that he'd gotten one from Ducky. Ziva and Lee checked and had messages as well. They'd been in the Forest for most of the night and early morning, busy with the op and also out of cell phone range. McGee tried to return the call, as did Ziva – neither of them was able to get through.

"We'll just find him when we get back," Ziva said. "The last thing we need right now are more questions or a long involved story about how this reminds him of some mysterious case of his youth." She was obviously tired and just a bit cross at having spent the better part of two days on a mission that yielded nothing.

Fornell and his team bid them all a farewell at the NCIS parking garage and headed back to Pennsylvania Avenue. "I'll send you a bill for the time and equipment, Gibbs," Fornell said with a smile, as he got in the waiting car.

"You do that," Gibbs said, under his breath.

Once they got upstairs, the team reported-out to Director Shepard, who had also been trying to reach Ducky, to no avail. McGee called Abby to let her know they'd gotten back. She came upstairs immediately. As she walked off the elevator, Abby was shocked to see Gibbs standing there.

"Gibbs!" she exclaimed, launching herself at him. "You're back again!" She gave him a huge hug, which he clumsily returned.

She stepped back and looked at him, then slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't leave this time."

He didn't respond.

They filled Abby in on what had transpired during their trip to Pennsylvania, and then everyone just kind of sat and paced and wondered what to do next. No one wanted to do anything until they found out where Tony was.

"You haven't heard anything?" McGee said to Abby. "Ducky didn't call?"

Abby flushed pink and hung her head. "I don't know," she said. "I lost my cellphone last night when I was running out to the grocery store." She looked up at Director Shepard. "I was worried about Tony and no one else was here so I tried to find Jimmy and couldn't and so I figured I'd go get something to eat so I went to the grocery store but I put down my phone in the produce section when I was trying to find the best pears because they always put the icky ones on the top and then when I got home I didn't have my cell phone and I called the store and …"

"Abby! Enough!" Gibbs said loudly. Abby went silent immediately and looked at him with a bit of shock.

"You yelled at me," Abby said in a whisper.

"Has anyone heard anything?" he said, with frustration. "About _Tony_? Remember? The guy we were all trying to rescue?"

There was silence for a moment as everyone tried to remember where they were in the conversation before Abby's outpouring of words.

"All we know is that he got out," Ziva said, finally. "He hasn't called, and Jess hasn't called. Neither one is answering their phone; and since we have no idea who she was working with, we don't have anyone else to ask."

"I've been trying to find out who pulled him out," McGee said, "but there's no record of an operation anywhere, not even in the highest-level ops logs."

"Which you got into how, Agent McGee?" Director Shepard asked, as she came down the stairs.

McGee flushed pink. "I … uh … well … there …" McGee stuttered.

"Never mind," Jenn said, with a slight smile. "I couldn't find anything either."

"I called the hospitals," Agent Lee said from her desk. "As soon as we got back. I had them run Tony's name and 'Gus Bricker' both, but no one had anything. There were two 'John Does' who didn't match his description, and one classified airlift patient they wouldn't give me information on. The most I could get out of them was that it appeared to be Robert DeNiro."

McGee opened his mouth to ask a question, but was interrupted by Ducky walking off the elevator. The coroner was surprised to see the entire team gathered, and truly startled to see Gibbs.

"Ducky," Director Shepard said, with just a hint of frustration. "We all got your messages and have been trying to reach you."

"I'm terribly sorry, Director," Ducky said. "I've been at hospital with Tony."

"Is he alright?" McGee asked, anxiously.

"Initially, yes, he was," Ducky said. "He was extracted from wherever he was – Jessica never told me that, now that I think about it …"

"Ducky, please," Ziva said, doing her best to be patient.

"Yes, of course," he said. "I'm sorry; it's been a very busy morning. I was paged just before dawn …"

"Doctor Mallard," Jenn said, "Tony's condition, please?"

Ducky's face turned serious. "Yes … as I was saying. He was extracted and brought to Bethesda. Miss Kennedy called me when they arrived. Doctors operated on him straight away – multiple internal injuries, among other things. He seemed fine at the outset, but took a turn for the worse a few hours later. He's been comatose ever since. Over six hours now."

The whole group wavered a bit and everyone seemed genuinely shocked. No one spoke until a small voice interrupted the silence.

"Is Specialist Kennedy alright?" Agent Lee asked quietly from her desk.

Ducky smiled. "She's a bit battered and bruised," he said. "But she's fine."

"I know we're all worried about Agent DiNozzo," Jenn began. "… about Tony," she amended. "But we do have work to get done today. Three cases came in overnight, and I was only able to assign one of them to another team. I'll have Bethesda keep us updated, and we can visit Tony a bit later when we have more information."

Ziva, McGee, Lee and Abby all looked at each other, not sure what to do. Then they all looked at Gibbs.

"What?" he asked, crossly. "I'm not your boss. You're not my team. Don't look to me for orders."

Abby shot him a steely glare, turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. "I'll be in the lab," she said. Then she turned back to the Director and raised her hand.

"Yes, Abby," Jenn said, with a tolerant smile.

"May I have permission to visit Tony after lunch?" she asked.

"As soon as the hospital tells us he can have visitors, we'll work out a schedule, okay?"

Abby saluted. "Yes, Ma'am," she said, and disappeared into the elevator.

"Come on Michele," McGee said to Agent Lee. "Let's get started on those two cases so that we'll be free to visit Tony when he wakes up." The two agents turned to their computers and began to work.

Ziva looked at Gibbs and then at Jenn. She sighed and plopped into her chair.

"I'll need a full operations report from you, Ziva," Jenn said. "There is also a bit more paperwork you'll need to do as team leader. I'll have Cynthia bring it down for you." Then Jenn went back upstairs to call the hospital as Ziva stretched, yawned and got to work.

Ducky pulled Gibbs aside into the hallway. "You were a bit gruff out there," he said.

"I'm not their boss any more," Gibbs snapped.

"No," Ducky said, "but you _were_ their boss, and they need a bit of leadership and consistency at present. It wouldn't have hurt you to …"

Gibbs cut him off and pulled out a cellphone. "I need to find Jess," he said, changing the subject and walking towards the elevator. "Any idea where she is?"

Ducky looked at Gibbs as though he'd just asked the stupidest question on the planet. "Tony is in a coma at Bethesda Naval Hospital," he repeated, as if he were talking to a child. "Where do you _think_ she is?"


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Ducky followed Gibbs into the elevator. As they were heading to ground level, the doctor reached over and flipped the emergency switch, stopping the car.

"That's an old trick, Dr. Mallard," Gibbs said with a smug smile. "And it's not even yours. No points for originality."

"You are an ass," Ducky said.

It was blunt and forceful and totally unexpected. Gibbs was struck speechless, and the grin that had been on his face was instantly wiped off.

"Those people out there," Ducky continued, "those people who are _not your team_, as you so eloquently reminded them just now, have quite possibly lost another leader – if not permanently, then certainly temporarily – and all you can do is glare at them and tell them to go find someone else? Perhaps it would be easier for them if you tossed a badge and a gun at someone. I'm sure that would make all the difference."

"Look," Gibbs began, angrily.

"I'm sorry," Ducky said, advancing on him a step, "but it is not your turn to speak as yet."

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and crossed his arms defiantly, almost daring the older man to continue.

"Obviously, you've regained some of your sense," Ducky continued, "since you managed to find your way here from Mexico. And the fact that you built a team and went after Tony earns you points on your nearly decimated score card …"

Gibbs opened his mouth, but Ducky took another step towards him, nearly backing him into the corner of the elevator car.

"… but," Ducky continued, "unfortunately, whatever it was that brought you here was not enough."

"May I?" Gibbs said, tersely, with an eyebrow raised.

Ducky glared, but did not stop him.

"I could have stayed in Mexico," Gibbs said angrily. "In fact, I _should_ have stayed in Mexico. Tony didn't need me; Jess didn't need me; NCIS sure as hell didn't need me."

"Oh, poor Gibbs," Ducky said, with fake sympathy. "He returns as rescuer and savior and is trumped by everyone." Ducky smiled, the look on his face dangerous. "I understand that the team you led was the _last_ one in," he said. "You must have been a bit discomfited by that."

Gibbs ignored the taunt. Ducky was baiting him, and he knew it.

"Look," Gibbs said, slamming the wall of the elevator with his fist. "I came back. I can't help it that it was all but over when I got there."

"No," Ducky said. "You can't help that it took you nearly three days after Jessica first called you before whatever guilt or sense of obligation you had finally made you get on a plane to help. Do you have any idea how long three days can be when you are being held captive and tortured?"

"Yes," Gibbs said, quietly and intensely. "I do." He waited for Dr. Mallard to realize his faux pas and apologize.

"Well, then," Ducky said, with equal intensity and calm, "it's even more reprehensible that you did not return."

Gibbs was incredulous. "I had no idea that Tony was captive somewhere!" he exclaimed. "All Jess had to go by was some feeling she had about him being in trouble. Some silly coded message and a … a … feeling."

"Ah," Ducky said, calmly. "The gut." He looked at Gibbs with a slight grin. "That only works for you, doesn't it? I'd forgotten."

"Are you done, Doctor?" Gibbs said, his hand reaching for the elevator switch. "I need to go."

"I'm not even close to being done, Jethro," Ducky said, allowing Gibbs to start the elevator moving again. "But yes, you do need to go. Because for some reason, Tony still thinks very highly of you, and _he _would want you there." Ducky stressed the word, making it clear to Gibbs that he'd not likely be welcomed by anyone else.

The elevator landed on the main floor and the doors opened. Gibbs exited, and then turned and looked back at Ducky.

"He's going to be alright," Gibbs said. It was unclear whether he was trying to reassure Ducky or convince himself.

"For everyone's sake, Jethro, I hope you're right," Ducky responded quietly, his fire gone. "I know it sounds melodramatic, but I'm not sure that this team would survive the loss of you _and_ Tony."

Gibbs watched as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

Gibbs walked up to the information desk at Bethesda Naval Hospital, fully expecting to be told that he was not on the "approved visitor" list for Anthony DiNozzo. He was surprised to find out that he was one of only six people listed. The nurse pointed him in the direction of Tony's ICU room. As expected, Jess was there, reading movie reviews aloud from The Washington Post. She glanced up as Gibbs stood by the door.

"You don't have to just stand there, Gibbs," Jess said with a small smile. "You can come in."

"I wasn't sure," Gibbs said, confused a little by her welcome. He wasn't as relieved as he thought he'd be to not be banned from the room or on Jess' shit list. He'd been ready to argue, to defend himself, to justify his actions. It threw him off.

Jess folded the paper and stood with a stretch. Gibbs nodded towards Tony, who was strangely still, and had several IV lines and other tubes connecting him to various machines and IV bags. "How's he doing?" Gibbs asked, with a slight frown.

"About the same," Jess said with a sigh. "'Serious, but stable'." She laughed. "No one ever calls Tony 'stable' unless he's being hospitalized." She brushed a non-existent lock of hair off Tony's forehead, her hand lingering a bit. "Every time he moves, I think he's coming around, but they're all just involuntary muscle things."

Gibbs looked more closely at Tony, who didn't seem to have any visible bruises or injuries. Jess saw his confusion.

She chuckled. "He looks pretty good for someone who was beat on for the better part of a week, doesn't he?" She looked at Gibbs, with no residual anger at all. "It's mostly internal, and it's all hidden by hospital gowns and blankets. The guys who did it definitely knew what they were doing. He took a lot of shots to the kidneys and lower back. A few to the back of the head. Other places. His entire left side is black and blue. The doctors removed his spleen and are waiting for the brain swelling to go down. As if Tony needed his head to swell any more than it already was." She smiled down at her friend, as if willing the teasing comment to wake him up and make him shoot back a remark of his own.

Gibbs looked at Jess more closely. She had light circles under her eyes, a bandage on her jaw, and some visible bruises on her neck, near her shoulder. She had another bandage peeking out from under the sleeve on her left arm.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking back up at her.

She looked over at her arm. "That?" she said, looking back up at him with a shrug. "I'm a great strategic mind, but I can't get from point A to point B without getting hurt," she said, angry with herself. Gibbs' eyebrows went up; there was clearly more to the story than he was getting. "Like I needed another scar," she said with a rueful laugh.

She looked up at Gibbs and her smile was weary but sincere. "It was good of you to come," she said. Gibbs couldn't quite place the tone of her voice, but it sounded the way Shannon used to sound when he'd tell her he was deploying again and she'd say, "I understand." It pulled at his heart a little, and he wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what was expected of him.

"I'm sorry …" Gibbs faltered. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner …" His voice trailed off.

"No worries," Jess said, working the kinks out of her neck. "There's no way of knowing if it would have helped or not. And you're here now."

"Better late than never," Gibbs said softly, not really believing it himself. She was so … quiet. So calm. So understanding. He wondered if she was in shock … some form of delayed reaction shock.

Jess laughed. "You were expecting to come in here and be booted out by big burly men hired to keep you, specifically, out of Tony's room." He cocked his head to the side with a half-smile.

"I considered it," Jess said, with that same unreadable, tired smile. "I'm sure that me yelling at you would make you feel better …" She gave him a questioning look, and he nodded. "But making _you_ feel better isn't on the agenda right now." She smiled. "Although if you'd like to get yelled at, Ducky might be available."

Gibbs smiled and nodded. "Thanks," he said. "I've been there already."

"Of course …" Jess began, her eyes flashing just a bit of either anger or humor – Gibbs couldn't quite tell which, "I reserve the right to take a swing or two at you once Tony's better."

"Understood," Gibbs said.

They looked at each other for a second.

"Do you need anything?" Gibbs asked, sincerely.

She sighed. "Could you just … could you sit here for a few minutes and keep Tony company?" Jess said, reaching for an address book and a pad of paper. Her voice wavered a little, as if she was trying not to cry. Gibbs wanted to reach out and hug her, but he didn't.

"I need to call Tony's father – he's stuck in Europe, at an airport where everyone's on strike. I haven't called in a while, and I should give him an update."

"Of course," Gibbs said. "Take all the time you need."

"Thanks," she said. "I'll only be a few minutes." She looked at Tony. "The elder DiNozzo isn't nearly as talkative as his son." She smiled at Gibbs and then glanced back down at Tony. "Talk to him. Familiar voices are good." She walked out the door and to the nurse's station.

Gibbs stood and looked down at Tony, not sure what to say. He somehow didn't think ordering him to get better was going to work this time.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"Familiar voices are good," Gibbs said, almost to himself as he stood in the center of the room and looked at the silent form lying on the bed in front of him. "I guess my voice is familiar," he said quietly. "Is it a voice you want to hear?"

Gibbs took a tentative few steps closer to Tony's bedside and looked a bit more closely at Tony's face. "They didn't hit you in the face, Tony," he said with a slight grin. "You'll be happy about that. You look better than you did after that undercover op you and Ziva did. And you look a WHOLE lot better than Ziva did after her fight with the Iranian." He chuckled. "Bet you'd have paid to see the two of them go at it, wouldn't you?" Then he laughed. "Come to think of it … me too."

He grew serious and started pacing a slow circle around the room, glancing back at Tony every so often. Gibbs would open his mouth to speak and then rethink it, and start pacing again. "What do you say to a guy in a coma?" Gibbs asked. Then he stopped by the bed and looked down. "It's a riddle, Tony," Gibbs said with an almost desperate tone. "What do you say to a guy in a coma?" he said again. "Help me out here." Tony didn't move.

Gibbs leaned on the rail around Tony's bed and finally started to speak. "I know what your first question is going to be," he said, looking down into Tony's face. "You're going to want to know why I came back for Ziva and wouldn't for you." There was a pause. "And I can't answer that. Well, I can, but even I don't like the answer, so you sure as hell aren't going to."

He took a breath and continued. "Except that I did come back for you. I was just … late. And trust me, Dr. Mallard made that clear." He looked at Tony the way someone does when they're telling a funny story at the office Christmas party. "You know," Gibbs said with a chuckle, "when you hear the whole story – about how Jess' team, whoever they were, pulled you out and then both NCIS **and** the FBI came in, guns blazing, only to find an empty warehouse – you're gonna laugh. You'll be telling that story for years. Two full teams of federal agents from two different agencies, and both of us were trumped by an analyst with a helicopter. Even I don't believe it."

He ran his hand through his hair. "You've done a good job with the team," Gibbs said, moving from the bed and sitting on the plastic chair near the window. "Obviously their instincts aren't what they should be yet, if they didn't pick up on you being in trouble," his voice carried a tinge of anger, "but they're coming along." He turned and looked out the window. "That little Agent Lee is going to be a spitfire, I'll bet. You'll want to keep an eye on her. It's always the meek ones that get you. McGee is looking good – he's trying to be more like you, I think. Trying to copy your 'fashion sense', whatever that is. But it's kind of working for him."

Gibbs stood and leaned against the window ledge. "Ziva is still Ziva." He chuckled, then he closed his eyes and sighed. "Abby's doing okay. She's worried about you and she misses me and I'm sorry for that. She's known how to reach me all along, did you know that? I gave her an emergency contact number and then told her never to use it." He laughed a self-depreciating laugh. "Yeah … I'm a bastard. Living up to that for certain."

He moved to the foot of the bed and looked directly at Tony's face. "You know, your team – _your team_," he stressed those two words, "as good as they are – as good as they're starting to be – they can't do it without you there. McGee's got the brains and," he chuckled, "Ziva's the brawn." He wiped his hand over his face. "Abby's the … what? The … fuel. The fuel that keeps them all running. Lee's the new kid, with the fresh eyes, and Ducky's the sage old man. But you … you're the heart of it all. I know it sounds sappy and cliché, but you are. The jokes and the teasing and the frat boy crap – it's part of why I hired you. Without you, that organism doesn't run." He paused, for effect. "With you, it's a team. Without you, it's just five people looking around for someone to lead them."

Gibbs took a deep breath, staring at Tony, as if the power of "the stare" would wake him up. Then he started talking as though he was bargaining with the motionless man in the hospital bed – trying to make him see logic.

"And if none of that does it for you, DiNozzo, wake up because Jess needs you to." Gibbs sighed. "You wouldn't recognize her, Tony. She's quiet and worried and there's no life behind her eyes." He looked up at the ceiling and then back down at Tony. "And damn it – she pulled a whole operation together, by herself, to go in and get you. You'd have been proud of her, Tony. She got help from God knows who, because it wasn't NCIS and it wasn't me … but she got help and she didn't stop until she'd gotten you out." He pointed at Tony from the end of the bed. His voice was stern and no-nonsense. "Which is why you owe it to her to wake the hell up."

Gibbs ran his hands over his face and through his hair and braced himself, again, on the rail around Tony's bed.

"I'm sorry I didn't come when Jess first asked me to," he said again. "I really am. And I'll tell you that to your face when you come out of this." He chuckled. "I never thought I'd be standing here asking to see that damn 'patented DiNozzo grin'," he said. "But I'd sell the boat in my basement to see it now." Gibbs reached out and lightly tapped Tony on the head, in a gesture that was both familiar and foreign to him. "Come on Tony," he whispered. He sensed someone behind him and turned quickly to see Jess standing in the doorway.

"How long have you been there?" Gibbs said, embarrassed and surprised and just a little angry at having an audience.

"I just heard the last little bit," Jess said, with a gentle smile. "I'm kind of sorry I missed the rest."

"Well, it was meant for Tony, not for you," Gibbs said. Jess' smile slowly disappeared, and Gibbs felt terrible. "I didn't mean …" he started. "That didn't come out …"

"It's okay," Jess said. "You're right. I'm sorry I interrupted." She looked at Tony, then back at Gibbs. "Any change?"

Gibbs shook his head. There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Did you get ahold of Tony's father?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," Jess said with a small chuckle. "He's still stuck. Won't be here for another 36 hours." She sighed. "It's probably better that he's not here anyway. It's easier."

"I've never met him. What's he like?" Gibbs asked.

"Tony's dad?" Jess shrugged. "I don't know … like you, in some ways," she said. "Smart, strong … demanding." She smiled. He smiled back. "He's a lot tougher on Tony …" she continued, "more easily dissatisfied … less likely to forgive a mistake. But he's an okay guy. He just tries too hard sometimes."

"And not hard enough other times?" Gibbs offered.

"Yeah," Jess said. "Then again, I don't have a lot to compare him to." Gibbs was going to ask a question, but Jess changed the subject. She gestured toward the room. "You can stay, if you want," she said. "I'm just going to hang out for a few more hours, maybe watch a little TV." She frowned and looked around. "I'll have to scare you up a chair, but I'm sure we can find something." She looked at him expectantly.

"No," he said, a bit abruptly. "I have to go. I got a call on the way here. Ziva's making dinner for …" He looked at Jess and then at Tony, and he actually flushed red. "I can bring you some back," he said quickly, remembering a different dinner at Ziva's. Images he didn't completely understand flashed through his mind. "It's not meant to exclude …"

"Jethro," Jess said with a little laugh. "It's okay. Ziva called and invited me too. I told her I needed to stay here. McGee and Abby are bringing some food over later."

Gibbs took a couple of deep breaths. "Good," he said.

"I'll call you if anything changes," Jess reassured him.

"Thank you," Gibbs said. He looked once more at Tony. "Don't forget what I said, DiNozzo," he said quietly. Then, to Jess, "Call if you need anything."

"Thanks." She walked over and gave him a quick hug, which he awkwardly returned. "Say hi to everyone."

And then Gibbs walked out into the hallway. He hoped Ziva had wine or beer or Scotch or ... anything. He really _really_ needed a drink.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Later that evening, Jess was watching a rerun of one of the Law & Orders or CSIs – she didn't really make note of which – when there came a tentative knock on the door to Tony's room.

"Hey guys," Jess said, flipping off the TV and standing to greet them. "Come on in."

Abby, McGee and Ziva stepped into the hospital room, stealing glances at Tony.

"How's he doing?" Abby whispered.

"You don't have to whisper Abby," Jess said with a chuckle.

"Oh … right," Abby said, shaking her head. "It's just that he looks like he's asleep, and I didn't want to wake him, but I guess in this case, waking would be good, huh?" She smiled a half-smile and cocked her head to the side, pigtails bouncing.

"It would," Jess said with a smile. She looked at Tony. "He's doing … the same. No real change. There seems to be more going on in the brainwave department," she said, pointing at the monitor, "but I don't really know how to read this stuff, so who knows."

"We missed you at dinner," McGee said. "But we brought you some left-overs." He handed over two containers.

"The big one is a lamb couscous salad," Ziva said. "You can eat it warm or cold or room temperature. I wasn't sure …" She shrugged and then continued. "The top one is extra sauce – dressing – if you want to add some."

"Thank you," Jess said. "This will be a treat after hospital food." She smiled.

Abby moved forward and pushed her shoulder into Ziva's. "Um … you had something you wanted to say?"

Ziva shook her head and glanced down and then over to Abby with an expression that seemed to say, 'I'm getting there … just give me a second'. Ziva looked up at Jess.

"You were right," Ziva said. "About Tony. You were right about all of it."

There was a pause and then Jess laughed lightly. "Wow," she said. "I'll bet that was hard to say."

Ziva smiled and laughed a bit herself. "You have no idea." The two women looked at each other and started laughing. The release felt so good that Jess couldn't stop. Ziva started laughing more as well, and it eventually spread to Abby and McGee. Before long, the four of them were standing in Tony's hospital room laughing uncontrollably. People were peering in from the hallway to be sure everything was alright. A few minutes later, the laughter began to subside. They were all wiping their eyes and taking deep breaths to recover.

"Boy," Jess said. "I needed that."

"I think we all did," McGee agreed.

Jess yawned, and then looked sheepishly at the group. "Sorry," she said. "I can't seem to not do that."

"Why don't you go home and get some rest?" McGee suggested. "We can stay here with Tony for a while." He looked at the rest of the group; Abby and Ziva both nodded.

Jess considered the idea. She wanted to be there when Tony woke up, but she really did need a break. "Maybe I will go home for a little while …" she began. "Take a shower … have something to eat." She picked up the containers of food and looked at Ziva. "I really would rather eat this at a real table with real silverware than sitting on a plastic chair using a spork."

"Spork?" Ziva said, with a puzzled look. Jess started to answer.

"I'll explain," Abby said, as she cut Jess off and gently pushed her towards the door. "I'll explain 'spork'; you go shower and change and stuff." She smiled.

Jess still looked unsure. "We're not trying to get rid of you or anything," McGee started, trying to explain. "You just … well … you just need to take a break. Get out of here for a while."

"It was actually Ducky's suggestion," Ziva said. "I think he's worried that you're not taking care of yourself …"

"… because you're taking care of Tony," Abby finished. "We told him we'd make you go home for a while."

"We'll call you the second anything changes," McGee added quickly. "_If_ anything changes …" he said, looking back at Tony.

"O…kay," Jess said. She walked over to Tony's bed and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be back soon," she said. "Behave yourself."

"Can he …," Abby began, tentatively. "Can he … hear us?"

"They're not sure," Jess said with a shrug. Then she smiled. "So, just to be safe, I wouldn't divulge any secrets. The last thing this guy needs is more ammunition." She sighed and looked at him again.

"Take a break, Jess," Ziva said, in a more understanding tone than anyone would have expected from her. "We'll watch over him."

"Thank you," Jess said. She couldn't tell if the tears in her eyes were because she was thankful that Tony had such good friends or if they were just her being tired. "I'll be back in a little while." And with a final look back and another thank you for the food, she headed home for a shower, some dinner, and a change of clothes.

Abby looked around the room. "Dibs on the chair!" she said.

"Dibs?" Ziva said, with a confused look.

"Laying claim," McGee said. And then, before Ziva asked, "I have no idea where that expression comes from or what it's short for."

"And 'spork'?" Ziva asked, looking at Abby.

"Combination of 'spoon' and 'fork'," Abby explained. "They give them out at fast food places and stuff. So that people can eat whatever they ordered, whether it needs a spoon or a fork."

"Ah," Ziva said. The three agents looked at each other and then Tony.

"We should talk about something," Abby said. "To keep Tony interested."

"Campfire?" McGee said, tentatively. The women smiled at him.

And so with Abby sitting on the chair at the side of Tony's bed, occasionally playing with his hair or adjusting a blanket, and McGee and Ziva leaning up against the ledge near the window, the three colleagues gathered around their boss and started filling him in on the cases they were working, the fate of the _Os Criminosos_ men, and giving him a rundown on everything that had happened since he'd been gone.

"Should we mention that his luggage is still in Rome?" McGee asked.

"I think you just did," Ziva said, with a smile.

Tony's pulse rate jumped for a just a few seconds, and they all looked at the monitor and then down at Tony. He didn't stir.

"I think I'll call the office in Rome and have them pick it up and ship it back," Abby said in a whisper so that Tony couldn't 'hear'. "Then it will be here when he wakes up."

Ziva and McGee looked at each other, smiling and shaking their heads as Abby snuck out to use her cellphone.

"Dips on the chair!" Ziva said, as she claimed the seat at Tony's bedside.

"Dibs ..." McGee said in a fading voice as Ziva sat.

* * *

Tony's place was closer to the hospital than Jess' place was, so she decided to go back there to shower and change. She walked into the apartment and was actually pretty amazed that she hadn't left it in worse shape. The whole mission to Pennsylvania had happened pretty quickly. She straightened up the kitchen and started the dishwasher, then tossed out all the leftover information about the Allegheny National Forest, _Os Criminosos_, the meth lab, and everything else that she'd collected while trying to locate Tony. She considered saving it all for some sort of convoluted scrapbook, but decided against it.

She put the couscous in the microwave, grabbed a beer, changed her mind and took a bottle of water instead, and sat down to eat. The food was so much better than she could have ever imagined. Whether it was Ziva's cooking or the fact that Jess was starving, the combination of the lamb, couscous, yogurt sauce and all of the fragrant herbs was just … amazing. It was the most wonderful meal she could remember, and she relished every bite. She was going to have to talk Ziva into making another batch for Tony once he was out of the hospital.

Jess felt a hundred times better after eating, so she went through her e-mails and answered a few from people who had helped her locate Tony. They'd all e-mailed, wondering how he was doing and hoping for the best. She also answered a few Pentagon e-mails, telling her boss and co-workers that she'd be back to work as planned, and thanking them again for approving the time off. Aaron had e-mailed her five times over the past 24 hours. She toyed with the idea of letting him worry a little more, just because it was fun, but then she figured that he'd have heard about the mission by now anyway. She e-mailed him back, telling him not to worry, that she was fine, and promising to make him dinner once Tony was better so that she could explain the whole thing.

After an hour of computer work, Jess hopped in the shower. It felt like a week since she'd had a decent shower and she did her best to use up every single drop of Tony's hot water. By the time she was showered, changed, and ready to head back out the door, it was after midnight. She called McGee to find out if they were still at the hospital. He and Abby were; Ziva had left an hour before to go home and clean up from that night's dinner party.

"How's Tony?" Jess asked.

"The same," McGee said. "I'm sorry."

Jess sighed. "That's okay. The doctors said it would take some time …"

"He likes sleeping in, Jess," McGee reassured her. "He'll be awake in no time."

"Thanks, Tim," she said with a smile. "You guys can head home if you want. It'll only take me fifteen minutes to get there."

McGee looked over at Abby, who was curled up asleep in the plastic chair – exactly how she managed to look so comfortable on a molded piece of plastic he didn't know. "Are you sure?" he said. "We can wait for you."

"No," Jess said. "Just tell the nurse you're leaving. She'll stay there until I come back."

"Okay …" McGee said. "If you're sure."

"It's nearly one and you guys have to work in the morning," she said. "_Go_."

"Drive safely," McGee said. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"You bet," Jess said, as she closed up Tony's place and headed back to the hospital.

It took her twice as long as normal to make it back, due to an accident about halfway there that was blocking all but one lane. When Jess finally walked off the elevator onto Tony's floor, there was a flurry of activity. "You're back!" the nurse at the nurse's station said with relief. "Come quickly!"

Jess could see a doctor rushing into Tony's room, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a heart monitor flat-line.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

Gibbs made it to Bethesda in record time, and nearly sprinted through the lobby and down the hall. He had no idea what he would find, but Jess had sounded frantic and had said "immediately," and Gibbs was determined not to let Tony down again. He skidded to a stop at Tony's room and caught his breath. "Jess," he said.

She turned and looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Jethro …" she said, her features solemn and her voice cracking. There were tears in her eyes. She got within a step of him and then she drew back and punched him in the face. He felt the full impact of her fist on his cheekbone, and it made him take two steps backwards in shock and surprise. She burst out laughing.

"What the hell?" Gibbs said, not caring that he was in a quiet hospital corridor. "What the hell was that for?"

Jess smiled and flexed her hand, shaking out the impact of the punch. "Tony's better," she said simply.

Gibbs looked past her and saw DiNozzo, lying in bed, grinning back at him. Tony raised a hand and waved.

"And…?" Gibbs said, still in a bit of shock from the blow.

"I told you I reserved the right to take a swing or two at you once Tony was better." Gibbs looked at her incredulously. She shrugged. "Tony's better," she repeated with a wicked smile.

"Nice shot," Tony said, with obvious pride.

"Yes, my dear, beautifully done." Ducky stepped out from the corner.

"Thank you," Jess said, with a small curtsy.

They all looked at Gibbs, still silent and stunned in the doorway. Ducky moved to him and quickly examined the point of impact. "Yes," he said, surveying Gibbs' face. "That is going to leave a mark." He patted Gibbs' cheek several times in the same place that Jess had just hit it.

"Ow!" Gibbs said, as he pulled away. "Easy, Duck." Ducky gave him one more solid pat, and then turned to Jess and Tony.

"I'm needed back in Autopsy, I'm afraid. In fact, I'm running quite late." He smiled broadly. "But I would not have missed THAT for the world." He let out a great laugh. "Thank you, Miss Kennedy," he said, regarding her warmly, "for an image that will live in my mind's eye forever."

Ducky turned to Gibbs. "Not too long here, Jethro," he said. "Tony needs his rest." Then, with a twinkle in his eye and a barely concealed laugh, "And you should probably put some ice on that." Ducky left, chuckling as he walked down the hall.

Gibbs walked over to Tony's bedside, giving Jess a wide berth. She continued to chuckle at his reaction, and Tony couldn't help but be amused as well, although his level of amusement was likely helped a great deal by the morphine in his system.

"So," Gibbs said, still tenderly touching his cheekbone and wondering what kind of black eye he'd have, "Tony's better."

"Yeah," Jess said, with a relieved sigh. "He came to about six hours ago. When he opened his eyes, the orderly who was checking on him was so startled that he pulled off a heart monitor node and the machine flat-lined. I was in the hallway. It scared the hell out of me." She laughed a relieved laugh and ruffled Tony's hair. "It took him a couple hours to figure out where he was and what had happened. But he's doing really well now." He smiled up at her before turning to Gibbs.

"Sorry about … that," Tony said, indicating Gibbs' face. Then he snorted back a laugh. "Kind of."

"No," Gibbs said. "I deserved it." Then he looked at Jess. "We even now, or is there a second one coming?"

She chuckled. "I don't know yet," she said. "You gave 'bastard' a whole new meaning when I called you in Mexico. And I did reserve the right to take a swing 'or two' at you." She was suddenly serious. "Are you back among the living now, or are you heading back to the land of the two-Corona lunch?"

Gibbs looked at Tony, who was also eyeing him expectantly.

"I don't know yet," Gibbs said. He looked at Tony, then at Jess. "Jess …" he began. "Can Tony and I have a minute?"

She looked down at Tony, who nodded.

"I'll call the rest of the team and let them know you're awake," Jess said. "And I should probably call your dad again."

"Thanks," Tony said with a yawn. "For dealing with him …"

"Well, he always liked me better anyway," she teased. She looked at Gibbs. "Behave yourself," she said, with a threatening glare.

"Yes ma'am," Gibbs said, seriously.

Jess walked out, and Gibbs moved to Tony's side.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Gibbs began. Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Gibbs cut him off. "Let me say this," he said. "I should have come back when Jess first called me. I don't know why I didn't. It had nothing to do with you – I was just … mad at the world, I guess. It may not have made any difference – I don't know if it would have saved you some of this," he waved his hand at Tony's injuries, "or anything else that happened. But I owed it to you to come back and help. You would have done it for me."

"Yes," Tony said quietly. "I would have." Gibbs looked at him. "But it's okay, Boss … Gibbs," Tony said. "You had stuff to deal with, and it wasn't helping that we kept calling you to dig us out of holes. Bottom line is … I got out. And I'm fine. And Jess is fine." He paused as his face broke into yet another grin. "Although she probably just broke her hand." He cracked up in a burst of laughter.

"Sorry, Gibbs," Tony said. "It's the drugs." He started to crack up again, looking at Gibbs' face and seeing the forming bruises.

"I doubt it," Gibbs said, dryly. "But I deserve it, so go ahead."

"It was a pretty good shot," Tony said. "You have to give her that."

"Yeah," Gibbs said with a chuckle. "Where'd she learn to hit like that, anyway?"

"I honestly have no idea," Tony said. He chuckled one more time and then became serious again. "So … are you staying, or what?"

"I'll talk to the Director," Gibbs said. "And see if I can stay on at least until you're back on your feet. Keeping your team out of trouble is the least I can do until you're up to full speed again. After that … we'll see."

"Thanks," Tony said, sincerely.

"So …" Gibbs said, curiosity lacing his voice. "Is anyone ever going to tell me how you got out? We got there and you were just … gone."

"I'm not entirely sure," Tony said, yawning again. "I was unconscious for most of it. I remember gunfire, and getting untied, and then I was in a helicopter with a bunch of people I didn't know. Then I was here." He looked at Gibbs with confusion on his face.

They spent the next twenty minutes or so running over scenarios, trying to figure out where Jess would have gotten help. The speculations got wilder and wilder until Jess finally walked back in, carrying a cup of coffee for Gibbs.

"Your dad's going to call later, and the team should be here any minute," she said. She stopped and looked at them both. "You guys look like you're up to something," Jess said, suspiciously, handing over the coffee.

Gibbs and Tony shared a look. "We were just trying to figure out how Tony got out of the warehouse," Gibbs said, with curious smile.

"Yeah," Tony added. "I only remember bits and pieces. It's pretty fuzzy."

"Come on guys," Jess said, turning it all into a joke. "If I tell you that, I'll have to kill you." Which actually wasn't too far from the truth, considering the secrecy under which The Unit worked.

"Seriously, Jess," Tony said, a frown of confusion on his face. "Come on. I remember a helicopter and some guys. And you got shot, didn't you?" He looked at her. She reached up and instinctively pulled her sleeve down over the bandage. She could feel Tony's and Gibbs' eyes on her and begged for intervention. She was trying to come up with a believable cover story when Abby walked in, carrying a batch of balloons and leading the rest of the team.

"Saved by the balloons," Jess said with a grin.

"I'll get it out of you, you know," Tony said as he adjusted the bed to sit up a bit more and greet his friends.

"I know," Jess said. "And I'll tell you. Just not … yet."

Abby walked over to the bed, put the balloons where Tony could see them, and gave him a hug. "These are from everyone," she said with a huge smile.

Tony looked at the bouquet. "'Happy Birthday', 'Congratulations', 'It's a Boy!' and Cinderella?" he said, looking up at McGee and Ziva.

"They were out of 'Get Well Soon'," Ziva said with a shrug.

"But … Cinderella?" Tony asked again.

"They were out of Spiderman too," McGee said.

"It was either Cinderella or My Pretty Pony," Abby said.

"Ah … good choice then," Tony said with a laugh.

Agent Lee walked over to Tony's bedside and put a small plant on the table.

"It's a … cactus," Jess said, with a curious look.

Michele blushed a bit. "I went to the plant store and asked for something sturdy," she said. "Something tough – something that would survive no matter what you did to it. Just like Agent DiNozzo. This is what they gave me."

Tony smiled proudly. "Good job, Agent Lee," he said with approval. "Very good job." She smiled and moved to the back of the group.

Tony yawned. "Sorry," he said. "Still a little tired."

"But you've been sleeping for days, Tony," Abby said as she leaned over and hugged him again.

"Yeah," he replied drowsily, with as much of a shrug as he could muster. "Go figure."

"Come on," Gibbs said. "Tony needs rest. And I need food. You're all invited and I'm buying."

"Should I call Ducky?" McGee asked, pulling out his phone.

"And the Director?" asked Ziva.

"Absolutely," Gibbs said.

"And maybe Jimmy too?" Agent Lee said softly from the back of the group.

"The more the merrier," Gibbs said gregariously, waving his arms in a gesture meant to include everyone. He turned back to the room. "Jess, you comin'?"

Jess looked down at Tony, who was starting to fade. He whispered "stay," and took her hand, his grip more insistent than Jess expected him to be able to manage.

"I think my presence is being requested here for a little while longer," she said with a smile. "Bring me back something?"

Gibbs saluted. "Yes ma'am," he said with a grin. "No cauliflower, no cilantro." Jess laughed, and the quintet of agents waved as they all headed out into the hall.

Gibbs stopped as soon as they got into the hallway and looked at Ziva. "What ever happened to the Portuguese mafia guys? The ones we left tied up in the trailer?" He was suddenly curious, needing to know how it all worked out.

"Pennsylvania FBI picked them up," Ziva said. "Two of the men cut deals and are telling everything they know. The other two aren't talking. They're being charged with everything from human trafficking to attempted murder."

"Based on what?" Gibbs asked with a curious frown. "There wasn't any evidence in the trailer when we got there."

"Whoever was helping Jess grabbed it all," Ziva said. "She passed it along to the Director when Jenn came to check on Tony. Abby's been sorting through it."

Gibbs digested this information and began walking towards the exit. "Good," he said. "Good."

The group made their way outside to the waiting sedan.

"Um … what happened to your eye, Boss?" McGee said, just noticing the forming bruises.

"Seriously, Bossman," Abby chimed in. "That's a wicked shiner."

"It's a long story," Gibbs said, as the group got in the car.

"Great," Agent Lee said with a smile. "You can tell us over dinner."


	16. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

A week after he woke up, Tony was out of the hospital. Two weeks later, he was back at work. He still had a bit of a limp and was in physical therapy for some damage to his knees, back and shoulders. It had taken a few days for the swelling in his hands to go down, and he ended up with some physical therapy there too, to help restore his dexterity. He'd finally returned to work on desk duty, half days. He was still a month or so away from full duty.

It was Friday night of Tony's first week back, and Jess was picking him up to celebrate.

"Where are we going again?" he asked as he gingerly eased himself into her car.

"It's a surprise," she said with a mysterious grin.

"I hate surprises," he said with a pout.

"No you don't."

"Okay," he conceded. "I love surprises. But I also want to know where we're going."

"Well," she said, not giving an inch, "you'll have that information in 20 minutes when we get there."

"Fine," he said, knowing when he was beat. He leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes.

Jess looked over at her friend and tentatively touched his arm. Tony opened his eyes and glanced over, surprised at her worried expression. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm good. Just … thinking." He smiled a genuine smile that wiped the worry off her face and made her smile in return.

"Ah …" she teased, "that explains the smell."

He lightly cuffed her on the back of the head and then pointed to the road in front of them. "Drive, woman," he said.

She raised her eyebrows at his chauvinistic tone. "You are so going to pay for that when you're well enough," Jess said as she pulled out of the driveway. Tony laughed.

Twenty minutes later, they were pulling up to a fairly small dive of a bar just outside of the city. It was the kind of place that you drive by thinking, 'I'll bet it's really cool in there,' but the exterior keeps you from ever stopping to find out. It had neon beer signs in the windows and a well-worn wooden front porch. There was no sign other than BAR over the door, although it was fairly obvious that there used to be someone's name preceding the word. Perhaps an old owner or a _very_ ex-wife or ex-husband. The parking lot was filled with all kinds of cars and trucks. Some with military plates, some with local plates. Very few sported rental car or out-of-town markings. There was an airplane wing sticking out of the roof – it appeared to be there as a bit of odd decoration, although from the look of the place, there could well be the rest of an airplane inside. It was one of those establishments where you'd have to go in to find out.

"Come here often?" Tony said, as he surveyed the ambiance from the porch.

"Not really," Jess said with a smile. "Been here once or twice."

They walked inside, and the place looked pretty much like you'd expect it to, only better somehow. It was booths and tables and a long polished wooden bar that had obviously had plenty of use. The fixtures were all plain, but perfect. Just the right mix of run-down and kept-up. It was a _comfortable_ place. Jess chose a table near the back, with six chairs.

"Apparently, we're expecting people?" Tony said, with a questioning look.

"You ARE an investigator," Jess teased, as she went to the bar for a couple of pitchers of beer and some glasses.

Tony sat. He wasn't moving as gracefully as he normally did, but he was also finally off his pain meds, so he was okay with a little pull here, a little twinge there.

As Jess was returning with the beer and glasses, four men walked into the bar. Jess waved, and the men came over and sat at the table. Tony recognized them, sort of. It was like he remembered them from a dream.

Jess poured beers and started making introductions. "Individually," she said to Tony, "these guys are Bob, Mack, Jonas and Billy." She pointed each one out as she named them. "Collectively," she continued with a grin, "they are the men who helped me save your ass."

Tony stared at them for a second, then he laughed and threw a wadded up napkin at Jess. He reached across and shook hands with each of the men, then frowned a bit as he tried to recall. "You three, I remember," he said, indicating the members of The Unit. "You … I don't," he said, pointing to Billy. "Where were you?"

"I was flying the bird," Billy said.

Tony looked at him again. "We've met before?" he asked. "I seem to remember …"

"Peoria," Billy filled in. Tony shook his head, not recalling. "I used to fly F-14's?" Billy said, trying to jog his memory.

There was a moment of confusion and then Tony's eyes went wide with realization. "Oh my God," he said. "You got reprimanded for that and …"

"Bumped down to chopper pilot," Billy completed the thought. "Came in handy here, though," he said with a chuckle. "Couldn't have pulled you out in a Tomcat."

Tony sat at the table with an incredulous look on his face. These men – these four strangers – had pulled him out of one of the worst situations he'd ever been in.

"I don't even know where to start thanking you," he said, shaking his head.

"No need," Bob said with a smile. "And … well … nothing personal, but we didn't really do it for you." He looked at the rest of the guys, and then back at Tony. "We were working for Jess. _She_ did it for you."

Tony shook his head again and smiled at his best friend, sitting across the table. "I don't know how I'm going to pay you back for this one," he said.

"With any luck," Jess replied, "you won't ever have to." She took his hand and kissed his palm. He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. He was suddenly speechless, and a little more emotional than he'd expected to be. The guys exchanged a glance and concentrated on their beers, letting Tony emotionally regroup. It was Mack who finally broke the silence.

"Bobby," Mack said, turning a curious gaze on Brown, sitting across from him, next to Jess. "You never told us what Jess did for you."

"Excuse me?" Tony said with a grin, shooting a curious look Jess' way.

"Mind out of the gutter, please, Mr. DiNozzo," Jess said with reprimanding look.

"What?" Brown said, not entirely sure what Mack was getting at.

"When Jess called you and you were trying to talk us into helping, you said that you owed her one," Mack explained. "Jonas said it must have been a major favor."

"Yeah," Jonas added, with a curious expression of his own. "What do you owe her for?"

Bob and Jess exchanged a look. She raised an eyebrow, and he smiled an enigmatic smile. "She introduced me to Kim," he said, slowly moving his focus back to the rest of the group.

"Wait a second," Mack said, not believing it. "We went into a crime syndicate stronghold with no back-up … in a bare-bones chopper at night to rescue a total stranger. We did all this because that guy's best friend introduced you to your _wife_?"

Bob looked around at the group and took a sip of his beer. "That's my story," he said.

There was a pause as Mack digested this information. "Okay," he said, lifting his beer in toast. "Works for me."

The six people around the table laughed, clinked glasses and drank.

"So," Jonas said to Tony, with a smile. "Tell me more about this scar competition …"

Tony chuckled and motioned for Jess to move over beside him as he began an entertaining journey through their childhood, pointing out scars on both of them to illustrate his points. The conversation was animated and lively, regularly punctuated with laughter and groans and stories of one-upmanship as the group regaled each other with war stories and past adventures.

They were still there four hours later when the bartender announced last call.

-- END --

* * *

_Author's note : No "coming attractions" this time, I'm afraid. I have a couple of other stories in the works, but none of them lead logically out of this one. And I've got nothing more in the "Tony & Jess" series at this point. But for those of you who like her, fear not … I'm sure Jess will be stopping by from time to time. :-) Thanks for reading!_


End file.
